


In the Cold of the Night

by impolitecanadian



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: DONT TAKE THIS TOO SERIOUSLY, M/M, Slow Burn, Victor is def into the uniform, Yuuri is cop in the B99 kind of way, because i feel like ppl are wondering when they gon fuck, fuck me up i dont know why i decided to write this, i literally have no idea where this is going help, idk man i just thought this would be fun, like fam we'll get there slow down, like he and Phichit just fuck around tbh because peace is possible people, the permit says "i can do what i want", update: fuck real laws im just gonna make them all up because i have a permit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9417833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impolitecanadian/pseuds/impolitecanadian
Summary: AU in which Yuuri never skated and instead is a small town cop with no idea who Victor Nikiforov, THE Victor Nikiforov, is until he arrests him for public intoxication.  Meanwhile Victor is enamoured, and absolutely plastered.(aka the self-indulgent canadian cop au that nobody asked for but I thought was funny. Takes place in Canada because I’m lazy and don’t want to research laws. It's basically all crack, just fyi)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> fair warning: literally even i don't know what this is
> 
> Title is based of the cop movie In the Heat of the Night from 1967 (which has no relation to this story, I just like the title and they meet in the winter because I'm cheezy like that)
> 
> Not Beta'd (cause that's a thing right?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations in the end notes!

For the most part, Yuuri Katsuki loved being a cop.  It hadn’t exactly been his life plan - okay, to be fair, he’d never really had a life plan – to end up an OPP officer, but the job suited him. While making the move to Detroit from Japan for university it had been challenging, and years later somehow ending up in _Canada_ of all places had been a surprising twist, Yuuri couldn’t say that he was disappointed in how his life turned out.  He liked the small town he worked in that hardly had any crime and he liked the Canadian legal system the few times he had to actually use it.  Most of the time his job consisted of showing up, flashing his badge and telling people to relax.  To which usually they would reply, “Yeah, you’re right Yuuri.  So’d you catch the game last night?”

Being a small town cop also had some pretty memorable cases.  Like crashing the annual high school bush bash, where their usual reaction to his almost timeable appearance was to just offer him a drink, which if you ask him, he definitely refused because professionalism, but if you ask any student who was at any of the five parties he’d crashed, Officer Katsuki can do an impressive keg stand.

But even with these simple pleasures, Yuuri couldn’t deny that there was something missing in his life.  He usually threw himself into work to distract himself from the emptiness he sometimes felt which is how he ended up working yet another overnight shift.  It wasn’t that surprising, but since their town had a total of two officers and very little crime, for the most part they could work during the day and just be on call overnight.

Yuuri had gone home that night, but being completely bored and unable to sleep, he simply put on his uniform, took the keys for his cruiser and starting patrolling… or something.  Really he was just looking for a distraction.  Which he found when he saw someone stumbling down Main St. at 2:00 am.  He pulled over the cruiser and got out of the car to see if the man was alright.  

“Hey, you okay there?” Yuuri asked. 

The first thing that struck him was that the man, when he turned around, was absolutely gorgeous.  In a makes-you-weak-at-the-knees, forget-every-Canadian-law kind of way.  The second thing that struck him was that he didn’t know this man at all, which was an odd occurrence in a small town with little to no tourism.

“Oui! Ca va bien! Comment ca va?” The man responded in French, loudly.  Dammit. In all admittance, Yuuri, while working on the whole French thing (since he legally was supposed to know it) wasn’t really that great at it yet.

“Ah… Je m’appelle, no wait, um Je suis…. Uh…” Yuuri started to answer before realizing that instead of answering the question ‘how are you?’ he was saying ‘my name is’.  He froze.  The man in front of him was definitely a little (okay, a lot) drunk, and slurred French was not going to be easy to translate.

“Oh! English?” The man asked, clearly seeing Yuuri struggling.

“Please.” Yuuri answered, taking a breath before asking, “Sir, would you mind telling me your name?” 

“You don’t knooooooow?” Yuuri must have looked confused because the man laughed so loudly he lost his balance, stepping closer to Yuuri to regain it. He had a thick accent that Yuuri hadn’t yet quite been able to place.

“I’m afraid not, sir.  Could you please just answer the question?” Yuuri responded, blushing at the sudden closeness of the other-worldly attractive man.

“I’m Victor Nikiforov!” He declared like it was momentous announcement.  After a moment’s consideration he added, “But you… you can call me Vitya.”

“Okay…” Yuuri  said, “Well, what do you do for a living, Mr. Nikiforov?”

“I said call me Vitya”

“Okay, what do you do for a living Vitya?”

Victor’s face lit up on the nickname, but then his brow furrowed again and he asked, “You mean you’re not just being a tease? You don’t know who I am?  Ну ебать меня!” He laughed again.  Yuuri decided he quite liked Victor’s laugh. Victor stepped closer to Yuuri and lowered his voice, “I’m Victor Nikiforov.”

“We’ve established that.  Why are you here?” Yuuri asked, deciding to move on from a question he was not going to get the answer to.

“Because a cute police officer pulled me over?" 

“I can’t pull over someone who isn’t in a car, sir.”

“Oh shit, you’re right. You’ve got to be, like, the smartest person ever,” Victor reached out to put his arm around Yuuri, but Yuuri side stepped out of his reach sending Victor to the ground. Yuuri looked down over top of the giggling man lying in the snow, but he couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face.

“I meant why are you in Canada?”

“Competition! I won gold, are you impressed, officer?” Victor giggled again, “Maybe you could kiss my medal?" 

“I’m afraid I can’t while I’m on duty.” Yuuri answered, trying to fight the blush that had risen in his already red cheeks.  It’s got to be from the cold, he thought, nothing else.  As though he suddenly remembered he was an officer of the law, he asked, “Can I see some ID?”

“Sure,” Victor hiccupped while he struggled to stand up.  Yuuri didn’t touch him, even though he wanted to. “But you won’t be able to read it.” He reached inside his coat and pulled out a wallet that he starred at intently before pulling out a plastic card and handing it to Yuuri.  Yuuri examined the card and suddenly the accent and the name clicked.

“Oh, you’re Russian!” Yuuri said looking up, “I’ve always wanted to visit- OH MY GOD!”

“Da?”

“Sir, put your clothes back on!” Yuuri was trying to look anywhere but the toned, shirtless man that was now standing in front of him.

“But I’m hot,” Victor whined. 

“It’s -20ºC!” Yuuri's voice was higher that usual.  A lot higher than usual.

“And I’m Russian,” He said, “We’ve developed some very good ways to keep warm. If you’re cold, I could teach you some?” Victor honest-to-god winked at Yuuri.  Or tried to at least.  It was more an awkward blink.  Yuuri just stared at him.

“Put your shirt on, that's an order not a request." Victor raised his eyebrows, but did as he was told.  Yuuri pushed on, "Do you have anywhere to go to sleep this off?”

“Uhm… No? Your place maybe?” Victor laughed as he shrugged his coat back on.  Yuuri sighed and reached into his belt.  He couldn't leave him wandering around drunk in the middle of winter.

“Victor Nikiforov, please put your hands behind your back.  I’m placing you under arrest for public intoxication,” Yuuri started, pulling out the silver handcuffs which Victor just stared at with a smirk on his face, “You have the right to remain silent. If you do say anything, what you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult with a lawyer and have that lawyer present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you if you so desire.” 

“Kinky,” Victor said simply, then turned around so Yuuri could handcuff him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is such a Mess™
> 
> Translations:  
> “Oui! Ca va bien! Comment ca va?” - Yes! I'm good! How are you?  
> "Je m’appelle” - My name is  
> "Je suis" - I am  
> "Ну ебать меня!" - Well fuck me! (this might be used again later in different connotations)  
> "Da?" - Yes?
> 
> ok so some stuff: 
> 
> i took law classes in high school and im basically basing my knowledge of the justice system off of what i remember from that because again IM LAZY!!!! i've also never written a fic before because im more of an OC person because I'm scared to mess up characterizations but i love these two dorks so much that i decided to just fuck it and go for it so yeah sorry if it's bad 
> 
> also i know Victor doesn't seem very drunk because I wrote him the way I am when I'm drunk which is basically the same just loud
> 
> thank you so much for reading!!!!
> 
> follow me on tumblr if you want! http://impolitecanadian.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phichit is my son and I love him. Translations in the end notes!
> 
> (Two updates in one day [okay its like 2:30am] because I'm having too much fun writing this)

“You worked overnight again.” Phichit stated, startling Yuuri awake, “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

Yuuri shrugged, “I got bored”.  Phichit just sighed, sitting down at his desk across from Yuuri’s.  They’d become fast friends once Yuuri started working there and hadn’t gotten more than a head shake from their now retired deputy when they pushed their desks together.  Phichit slid a mug of coffee across his desk to Yuuri who gratefully accepted it. 

“Anything exciting happen last night?” He asked.

“Besides sleeping beauty there,” Yuuri gestured to Victor who was sleeping on the cot in his barred cell, “No, not really.”

Phichit turned and looked at Victor before snapping back around to stare at Yuuri, wide-eyed, “Is that?”

“He said his name was Victor Nikiforov.” Yuuri said noncommittally, going to take a sip of his coffee.

“WHAT?” Phichit yelled, causing Yuuri to jump and spill his coffee on his shirt. 

“Damn,” Yuuri said grabbing a Kleenex from the box of his desk.

“Damn is right! You have Victor-fucking-Nikiforov in here and you didn’t tell me? Wait. You have Victor-fucking-Nickiforov in here. Did you arrest Victor-fucking-Nikiforov?” Phichit’s voice was higher than usual out of pure excitement, “Do you think I could take a selfie with him?”

“No, I think that’s illegal somehow. I should probably know if it is, actually,” Yuuri shook his head, “I still don’t know who he is.”

“You’re unbelievable, Yuuri,” Phichit said clasping a hand to his chest like he was insulted, “He’s only the best male figure skater, right now.  Scratch that, he’s only the best male figure skater ever. Here, look!” Phichit walked around the desks to Yuuri’s computer and logged in with Yuuri’s info.

“How did you…” Yuuri started to ask before Phichit shushed him and hit play on a YouTube video of Victor skating.  Yuuri watched a little dumbfounded.  Okay, he thought, that explains why he looks so good shirtless.

“That’s pretty impressive,” Yuuri admitted.

“Impressive!” Phichit squeaked, “Yuuri, he’s an Olympic gold medalist and the four-time consecutive winner of the Grand Prix Final!”

“Five-time, actually,” Came Victor’s voice from the cell, “Victor Nikiforov.  Five-time consecutive gold medalist of the Grand Prix Final. Now, could either of you tell me where I am?”

\---------------------------------------------------------

“I’m where?” Victor asked for the third time in a row. 

“Look, I’ve told you three times, so this is the last time I’m going to say it.  You’re in a jail in rural Ontario, I arrested you for public intoxication after you started stripping in the middle of the street.  I haven’t actually charged you with anything yet though,” Yuuri answered him.

“I’m sorry, officer… officer…”

 “Katsuki,”

 “Officer Katsuki this has got to be a misunderstanding.” Victor pleaded with him.

 “My dude,” Phichit turned in his office chair to face Victor, “My guy, you literally didn’t know where you were when you woke up.  I’m pretty sure you had to have been smashed for Katsuki to even consider bringing you in.  He’s pretty lax.”

 “I am not!” Yuuri said defensively.

 “I’ve got about ten pictures of you doing a keg stand that says otherwise, Yuuri,” Phichit said waving a dismissive hand towards Yuuri still looking at Victor who just looked confused for a second and then suddenly gasped.

 “Shit! Yuri!” He said hitting himself in the head.

 “What?” Asked Yuuri, “What did I do?”

 “No, not you.  I didn’t even know your name was Yuuri.  I mean Yura, Yuri Plisetsky, he’s training under my coach. Shit, Yakov won’t know where I am.  He’s going to be pissed.” Victor ran his hand down his face in frustration, “There isn’t any chance I haven’t used my phone call is there?”

 “I didn’t let you make you phone call last night.” Yuuri shrugged.

 “Isn’t that like illegal? Don’t make me bring my lawyer all the way from Russia,” Victor teased.

 Yuuri sighed, “I tried to give you your phone call last night so that you could get someone to come pick you up, but every time I gave you the phone you just kept asking for my number and then giggling. So I stopped.” Victor’s face paled a little bit.

 “How many times?” He whispered.

 “At least twelve.” Yuuri answered his unfinished question. Victor groaned and put his head in his hands.  Phichit just sat there silently shaking with laughter.  Yuuri glanced over to him and then looked at his watch.

 “Shouldn’t you be on patrol, Officer Chulanont?” Yuuri said to Phichit with an innocent smile on his face.

 “Seriously?” He looked at Yuuri, “Come on, nothing fun happens on patrol.  I’d rather see how this pans out.” Yuuri just looked at him, peaking one of his eyebrows.

 “Fine,” Phichit said as he walked backwards towards the door, “But I’ll never forgive you.  Ever.”

 “I’ll bring doughnuts tomorrow.”

 “Forgiven,” Phichit called as the door closed behind him.

 “So, my phone call?” Victor asked.

 “Oh, right!” Yuuri jumped up and walked over to the cell to hand Victor the phone.  Victor took it and thanked him before sitting down on the cot and taking a deep breath.

 “You alright?” Yuuri asked.

 “Yep. Just preparing myself for the shit show that this is going to be.” Victor smiled warmly at him, “Well, no time like the present to get yelled at, I guess.”

\--------------------------------------------

“Yakov?” Victor asked in a small voice.  Yuuri watched from his desk as Victor winced and moved the phone away from his ear.  Without even straining to listen Yuuri could hear the gruff voice of the man yelling on the other end of the phone.

“Прости! Да, это было глупо, но ты не поверишь, как мне повезло.” Victor’s Russian was fast spoken and if Yuuri was being honest, kind of sexy to listen to. He heard the voice on the other end yell something loudly in what he assumed was Russian to which Victor replied, “Мой офицер милый,” and Yuuri heard an audible sigh from the other side of the phone. 

He cleared his throat, “Uhm Victor, English please, if you don’t mind.” Victor looked up at him questioningly. 

“Safety issue,” Yuuri said. Victor nodded and easily flipped to English.

“Yakov, I’m in a jail cell in Ontario. No, I don’t know how I got to Ontario either.  Yes, I know Montreal is in Quebec.  Yes, I know I’m an idiot.  I need you to come get me.  I haven’t actually been charged with anything, Yakov.  I’m Russian, I don’t get drunk. It was a misunderstanding.”

Yuuri snorted at his desk and Victor glared at him, which only served to make him laugh harder.

“I don’t know ask him! Wait, no I don’t actually think you can… Yakov!” Victor sighed and stood up walking over to the bars of the cell.  He held out the phone to Yuuri, “Officer Katsuki? He wants to speak to you.”

Yuuri took the phone from Victor and slowly placed it to his ear, “Officer Katsuki speaking, what can I-”

“Is the idiot going to need a lawyer?” A gruff voice interrupted.

“くそ!” Yuuri swore in Japanese, the interruption taking him by surprise, “Sorry! Uhm, well sir, I haven’t actually charged him with anything.  I brought him in so he wouldn’t be left drunk in the snow and get hypothermia or something.” 

“He’s a _skater,”_ Yakov said, “He doesn’t get cold.”

“Well, I didn’t know that at the time,” Yuuri responded, “Anyway, I’m not going to release him without someone here to claim him.  I can legally hold him for twenty-four hours without charging him, and we’re only at six right now.  So I would suggest you make your way to Ontario so I can release him into your custody, sir.”

There was a brief pause on the other end before Yakov simply said, “Keep him,” and hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> “Прости! Да, это было глупо, но ты не поверишь, как мне повезло.” – Sorry! Yes, it was stupid, but you won’t believe my luck.  
> “Мой офицер милый.” – My officer is cute.  
> “くそ” – Shit!  
> ^I literally just use Google Translate for translations (except for French) so if they're wrong let me know and I'll fix them!
> 
> I wasn't expecting this to get read like at all so the the unexpected kudos(es?) are watering my crops and clearing my skin
> 
>  
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> once again my tumblr is http://impolitecanadian.tumblr.com/ :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of a POV shift to Victor because I wanted to and I do what I want.
> 
> also im making it my mission to include a mention of Yuuri doing a keg stand in every chapter because i think its hilarious

“How long have I been here?” Victor whined, looking up at Yuuri from the ground.  He’d sprawled out on the floor (after being assured it was clean) in a bid for Yuuri’s attention, to which Yuuri had simply looked at him and said, “Stop being extra.”

“Since you got here, or since you last asked?” Yuuri replied not looking up from the paperwork he was doing.

“Both,” answered Victor.

“You’ve been here for about eight hours total, which is the same answer as the last time you asked me fifteen minutes ago.”

“Okay, I get it.  You don’t like me.  I’ll just be alone over here, wallowing in despair.” Victor threw his arm dramatically (as if he ever did anything less) over his eyes.

Yuuri finally looked up from his paperwork, “What do you want?” Success! Victor sat up, but blanked on what to say when he looked at the young man sitting behind his desk.  While his drunk-self had, from what he’s heard, thought Yuuri was attractive, Victor’s sober-self thought that attractive didn’t even begin to cover it.  Sure, he was a little chubby, and had enormous dark circles under his eyes, but his face was kind and let’s be honest, the uniform was definitely a turn on.  The other cop, Phichit, Victor thinks, mentioned something about keg stands.  Victor conveniently thought of something else Yuuri could do with his mouth before blushing and looking down.

“Nothing,” Victor answered.  Yuuri shrugged and looked back down at the file he was filling out.  Victor sighed and stood up. He guessed that the morning after tipsiness he had had must have worn off when the bout of nausea and dizziness hit him. He wandered over to his cot and sat down, putting his head in his hands to try and deal with the stabbing pain behind his eyes.

“Can I have an Advil or something?” Victor asked, “I appear to be hungover.”

“I thought Russians don’t get drunk?” Yuuri deadpanned.

“And I thought cops didn’t do keg stands.” Yuuri’s head snapped up and he looked directly at Victor, slack-jawed. “I won’t tell anyone in exchange for Advil.”

“You’re asking me, no more like black mailing me, an officer of the law, to give you, an inmate, drugs.  Do you even realize how wrong that is?” Yuuri asked.

“I’ll pay for them?” Victor suggested.

“Great.  I’m adding bribery to your charge as well,” Yuuri said solemnly.

“Блядь. I wasn’t serious! Please I can’t…”

“Stop,” Yuuri interrupted, “I’m only joking.  But I actually can’t give you Advil. It’s definitely against the law.”

“As if you know what’s against the law,” Phichit said, walking through the door and hanging up his coat.

“I do so,” Yuuri said defensively.

“Okay, name like one law,” Phichit responded.

“Uh, don’t kill people?” Yuuri said causing Victor to laugh.  Cute and funny, he thought.

“True.  Okay, so I believe you’re a real cop.” Phichit narrowed his eyes, “For now.”  Yuuri glared at Phichit until he presented a bag of food.  He handed something to Yuuri before passing the bag through the bars to Victor.  He opened the bag quickly before pausing.

“A bagel?” Victor asked.

“Yeah? Is there a problem?” Yuuri responded around a mouthful of food.

“I can’t eat this.  I’m a competitive athlete! Yakov will kill me!” Victor exclaimed.

“Yakov’s not here,” Phichit pointed out, “Eat the damn bagel.” Victor considered this for a moment and then breaking into a grin, he took a bite of the bagel (which, by the way, was probably the best bagel he’s ever eaten).  Yuuri and Phichit were talking quietly at their desks while Victor finished his breakfast, which greatly improved his nausea.  Phichit quickly walked over to the cell beside Victors and unlocked the door.

“Get some sleep,” He said looking at Yuuri, “You practically look dead.  I’ll watch skater-extraordinaire while you do.”

“I’m fine, Phichit,” Yuuri protested.

“Nope.  No arguments.” Phichit swung the keys around his finger, “Either sleep willingly, or I’m locking you in the cell.”  Yuuri sighed and walked into the cell to lie down.  Before long his breathing evened out and it was pretty obvious he’d fallen asleep.

“Do you do that often?” Victor asked, gesturing to the sleeping Yuuri.

“What?” Phichit looked up, “Oh. Sleep in the cells?  No that tends to just be Yuuri.  I mean they’re always open anyways.  You’re the first person we’ve had in four months, I think.”

“Why doesn’t he go home to sleep?” Victor asked.

“Because he’s technically on the clock right now.” Phichit shrugged.

“What about last night?”

“He patrols at night off the clock sometimes when he can’t sleep.  He says it’s because he’s bored, but I think the job gives him something to focus on.  Calms him down, you know?” Phichit told him.

“He likes it?” Victor knew he was pushing, but he couldn’t help feeling curious.

“The job?” Phichit asked.  Victor nodded. “Yeah.  I don’t think he expected to ever be a cop, but yeah I think he likes it.  The community makes it easier.  It’s a great place.  I immigrated from Thailand when I was ten, and while I miss Thailand sometimes, I really love it here.  But I can’t imagine leaving all of my family behind for college.”

“He left his family behind to come to Canada?”

“Detroit, actually.  He left Japan to go to school.  I still don’t know how he ended up in Canada, though.” Phichit turned his back to Victor again, who was left looking at Yuuri.

“Are there any rinks here?” He asked Phichit. 

Phichit turned in his chair and looked at him questioningly, “There’s a hockey rink on James St. and Yuuri’s got a pretty big pond on his property that freezes over every year.  We usually play some scrimmages on it.”

“Scrimmages?” Victor asked.

“Hockey scrimmages, yeah.”

“Hockey.” So he can skate!  Well kind of, Victor thought, does hockey count as skating?

 “Hey, it’s Canada’s game.  Man, Yuuri’s pond games are the best! Always lots of food and beer and nobody takes it too seriously.  He’s got a great property, actually.  You know, I think he’s looking for a roommate.  Oh my god you should be his roommate!” Phichit jumped up out of his chair and walked towards where Yuuri was sleeping.  He banged on the bars and Yuuri bolted upright.

“What! What? Is somebody dying?” He yelled, still half asleep.

“Yuuri!” Phichit was practically shaking from excitement, “Victor’s going to live with you and be your roommate!”

Yuuri yawned, “Okay, sounds good.” He said and then gave Victor a thumbs up before falling back onto the bed and going back to sleep.

“High five to the matchmaker of the fucking year,” Phichit said and clapped his hands together over his head.  Victor just sat on the cot and stared with wide eyes.

“Phichit,” Victor said to get his attention.  The Thai man turned and looked at him, “Can… can I call my coach?”

Phichit looked at him and then shrugged.  He walked over and unlocked Victor’s cell door.  Victor didn’t move. “I’m releasing you,” he said.

“Why?” Victor asked.

“Because Yuuri wanted you released into somebody’s custody.  So I’m releasing you into his, since you’re going to live with him.” Phichit gestured to say get out of the cell, but Victor kept sitting there, “You are going to live with him, right?”

“No? I need to go to back to Russia,” Victor said. No matter how much I might want to stay, he thought. 

“Well you could walk out of the cell now or  you could wait to see if Yuuri charges you and then when he does you’d have to go through court dates, you might lose sponsors, I don’t know. It’d be a long process.” Phichit smiled innocently at him, “Okay, answer me this, do you want to stay? You wouldn’t have asked about skating rinks if you didn’t want to.”

“Yes,” Victor answered quickly, realizing just how much he did want to stay.

“Great.  Here’s your phone and other possessions and stuff,” Phichit said, holding out a bag to him. 

Victor stood up and took the bag, leaving the cell.  He sat down on the bench in the precinct and looked at his phone. He had thirty-seven missed calls from Yakov alone.  Victor sighed and dialed Yakov’s number.  He quickly picked up. 

“Hi, Yakov!” Victor said, “I’m out of jail!”

“Good,” Yakov’s gruff voice replied, “Now we can get the hell out of this country.  People are too happy here, Vitya.  I don’t trust it.”

“Actually, Yakov,” Victor paused, “I’m going to need you to send me my luggage here.  I’m staying in Canada for a bit.”

He heard Yakov inhale deeply on the other end of the phone, before he screamed in Victor’s ear, “YOU’RE WHAT?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> “Блядь.” - Fuck
> 
> Ah, there’s the “drop everything and move across the world for a guy you’ve known for a night” Victor we all know and love. Poor Yakov.
> 
> Sorry this chapter isn’t as funny as usual! Sadly, it was more plot driven than meme driven
> 
> I still have no idea where this story is going, but I hope everyone is still enjoying it! Speaking of, wow I was not expecting the reaction this fic has gotten! For my first ever fic this is pretty exciting so thanks everyone!
> 
> I don’t know when the next update will be, I literally wrote this chapter on the bus on the way back to my campus so I don’t know how ill write around school, but there will be an update by next Saturday at the latest!
> 
> Again, my tumblr is http://impolitecanadian.tumblr.com/ so shoot me a message! I'd love to talk!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd we're back to Yuuri's POV!
> 
> Someone said Yuuri and Phichit are incompetent at their job, and I say they can't be incompetent at a job they don't do. #CopsOfTheYear2k17 
> 
> (i love you person i just thought your comment was funny)

“YOU WHAT?” Yuuri yelled at Phichit while Victor simply sat in the background.

“Released him,” Phichit shrugged. 

“Fuck, Phichit. I can’t even take an hour nap without you releasing an inmate?” Yuuri asked angrily.

“Oh, to be fair, it’s not like he’s going to do anything bad.  Look at him,” Phicit gestured at Victor, who was still sitting on the bench he called Yakov from.

“Rude,” Victor said looking up at Phichit. 

 “He was afraid to eat a bagel,” Phichit said as way of explanation and then pushed on, “Besides you said he needed to be released into someone’s custody.  You need a roommate, and now you’re his roommate, so he’s in your custody and we can get him out of our office thing.  Voila, two birds with one stone!” 

“He’s my what now?” Yuuri asked, taken aback. 

“Your roommate? You agreed to it like twenty minutes ago.” Phichit said dismissively, “You know, Victor, you need to talk him into new furniture.  His couches are falling apart.”

“Twenty minutes ago?” Yuuri’s face was getting red, “Phichit I was asleep! I would have agreed to let you burn the fucking office thing down.”

“Can we?” 

“No!” Yuuri paused, running a hand down his face, “Phichit, he can’t be my roommate.  I don’t even know the guy,” Yuuri turned to Victor, “No offense.” 

“None taken,” Victor said, “I am going to need a place to stay though.  Yakov said that he needs at least a month without looking at my stupid face before he considers letting me come back to Russia.  I’m pretty sure he left the country this morning anyways.  He doesn’t like Canada very much.  He thinks poutine is unnatural.” 

Yuuri looked at Victor and sighed, “Fine.  You can stay with me for a day while you figure out a hotel or a way back to Russia.  But you are not moving in. Understand?”

“Amazing! Okay! This is going to be so much fun, Yuuri!” Victor stood up quickly and walked over to Yuuri, tapping on his phone, “I’m going to tweet about this! What – oh.  That must have been how I got here!” 

Victor held up his phone, showing Yuuri and Phichit an Instagram post of him standing, in a train car with all of the passengers behind him for a selfie.  The picture was captioned _'Expolring Cananada!!!!!@! Thry’re so friend!'_  

“Nice lighting!” Phichit commented and Victor thanked him.  Yuuri sat down at his desk. 

“Why on earth did VIA Rail let _a hammered Russian_ onto a train?” Yuuri said quietly to himself. 

“Because he’s Victor-fucking-Nikiforov?” Phichit said.

“Yeah, pretty much because I’m Victor-fucking-Nikiforov.” Victor replied smiling.  Yuuri just groaned. 

Phichit sat down at his desk and looked at Yuuri, “You should take him home.  He’s been in jail Yuuri.  Do you know what that’s like?  Being in jail?” he asked gesturing to Victor, who nodded solemnly.

“You do realize this is a real job? Like taxpayers pay us to be here.  You understand that right?” Yuuri asked. 

“Yes?” Phichit replied.

Yuuri put his head on his desk, “I hate you.  Fine.  Victor, we’re leaving.” He stood up and grabbed his coat tossing Victor’s own towards him.  Victor, not paying attention got a face full of black fabric and dropped his phone. While Victor picked up his belongings, Yuuri waited by the door.  He opened it for Victor without thinking, and again, without thinking put his hand on his lower back to guide him outside. 

Across the room Phichit lowered his phone, still open to the camera app, “Damn.” He whispered to himself, “This is going to be fun.”

\-------------------------------

Yuuri put the car in park in his driveway.  He’d taken the better of the two police cruisers just to spite Phichit (it definitely wasn’t because he wanted Victor to be in the nicer car).  He got out of the car and stretched, feeling his back pop in places.  Yuuri hoped his house would be enough.  It was decent, not exactly a mansion, but it had a big kitchen and two bedrooms.  What had really drawn Yuuri into buying the property was the large pond that out back of the house.  In the summer, when he could swim in it, it reminded him of his family’s onsen back in Japan.  The skating rink it became in the winter was a bonus he hadn’t expected, since it only took about a month of winter before all of his neighbours showing up at his house declaring they were going to teach him hockey since 'a good sheet of ice like that shouldn’t be wasted, eh?' 

Victor knocked on the backseat window, causing Yuuri to jump. Oh right, he thought, the backseat doors lock because criminals.  

“Shit! I’m sorry, I forgot it locks! I’m so, so sorry!” He opened the door for Victor who got out and stepped a little too close to Yuuri. 

“I still don’t understand why you made me ride in the back,” He said in a low voice. 

“I don’t know; I think there’s a law or something.” Yuuri answered taking a step back.  Victor gave him a disbelieving look before finally turning to look at the house. 

“Your house is cute,” He said simply.

“I… Uh, thank you.” Yuuri said awkwardly, “Here, let’s go inside.” He moved past Victor to unlock the front door.  Victor followed him into the living room.  It was pretty simple.  A couch, two arm chairs, a TV and a bookcase was pretty much all the furniture Yuuri owned. 

“The kitchen is that way,” Yuuri pointed to his right, “Bathroom’s off the kitchen, and the two bedrooms are down that hall.  Yours is the door on the left.”  It took a second before Yuuri caught himself, “I mean, the guest bedroom! Not your bedroom! Well, I guess it’s yours for tonight… I.  Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Victor said, pressing down a laugh, “I appreciate the bed.  Is there any chance I could shower, maybe?  Steal a change of clothes?” 

Yuuri stopped and stared at him he said, “Uhm okay.  Let me go find something for you to wear,” and then disappeared down the hall that led to the bedrooms.  Victor stood in the middle of the living room accessing the place.  Phichit had said Yuuri lived alone, and it certainly looked like it.

“So you an Phichit are pretty close,” Victor called after Yuuri.

Yuuri’s voice carried down the hallway, “Yeah.  He’s my best friend.  I’ve known him since I moved to Canada.

“Does Phichit have a girlfriend? Or maybe a boyfriend?” Victor asked. 

Yuuri came back around the corner carrying sweatpants and a t-shirt, and looked at him confused, “He has hamsters.”

“Hamsters?” Victor asked.

“Yeah he keeps them as pets.  They’re pretty cute.” Yuuri said, handing Victor the clothes, “I don’t know, Phichit’s never really seemed interested in anybody.  But the town here is pretty small, so there’s not a lot of people our age who are single.”

“Oh,” Victor’s face dropped, “So I guess you’ve got a girlfriend?”

Yuuri jumped back in surprise and looked at Victor, “What? No! No! I’ve never,” He paused taking a breath, his heart fluttered in his chest, “I’ve never actually had a girlfriend.”

“What a shame,” Victor said, “You’re quite attractive.  And you can do a keg stand.  You’re a real winner, Yuuri.”  He winked at him, and it was almost coordinated until he sneezed.  Yuuri and him looked at each other for a good minute before Victor cleared his throat and interrupted.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” he said.

“Good idea,” Yuuri replied.  He watched Victor walk into the kitchen and then heard the bathroom door shut and the water turn on.  Yuuri sat heavily down on the couch and texted Phichit.

 

**Sent @ 1:04pm**

Phichit! He’s hot! What should I do?

 

**Phichit <3 @ 1:04pm **

him 

 

**Sent @ 1:04pm**

Thanks, great suggestion.  I’ll take it under consideration.

 

**Phichit <3 @ 1:05pm**

np be safe!!!!! <3 ;)

 

Yuuri put down his phone and sighed, “I’m totally fucked, aren’t I?” He said to no one in particular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Phichit bc i love him and i got the keg stand in there last minute lmao
> 
> Wow okay, you guys are amazing! Over a 1000 hits in under 24 hours is super cool and I don't know how to handle it! Thank you, thank you, thank you! There wont be another chapter until thursday at the earliest (i've got like three seminars that I haven't done the readings for because i'm trash lol)
> 
> I'm currently looking for someone to maybe bounce ideas off of for this fic? Idk if someone wants to i'd be down and you'd earn my eternal love (and chapters before everyone else) message me on tumblr if you want to!
> 
> http://impolitecanadian.tumblr.com/
> 
> also i've tried to reply to every comment i've seen so if i missed yours i'm sorry and i love you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations at the end as always!
> 
> Victor gets another POV because I can

Victor ended up taking a cold shower, which had not been his intention, but even five-time consecutive gold medalists have trouble controlling their thoughts sometimes, okay?  The worst of it was preparing himself to put on Yuuri’s clothes.  He barely knew him, why was Yuuri doing these kinds of things to him?  Victor sighed and put on the clothes, trying not to put any meaning into who they belonged to, or who they smelt like.  _He’s only being nice_ , Victor thought, _he’s Canadian, he has to be nice._ Victor left the bathroom and found Yuuri sitting on his couch in the living room.  He’d changed out of his OPP uniform into jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt.  He looked really good.

Victor swallowed, “thanks for the shower.  I really appreciate it!” He said cheerfully.

Yuuri jumped and looked up from his phone at Victor.  He licked his lips slightly, and nodded quickly, “No problem.  The clothes fit?” He asked. 

“You tell me,” Victor said.  He knew he was pushing a little bit, but making Yuuri blush was quickly becoming one of his favourite things to do.

“Yeah.  They fit,” Yuuri did blush and looked away, “What do you want to do? It’s only 2:00pm so we’ve got quite a bit of time.” 

“What is there to do?” Victor asked, “Keg stands?”

“Okay, rude,” Yuuri said obviously trying not to smile, “Second of all, you’re right there’s not much to do.  We could watch a movie, or I don’t know.  The pond’s frozen over, but you probably don’t want to skate.”

Victor raised his eyebrows, “Why would I not want to skate?”

Yuuri shrugged, “I don’t know, some people don’t like it.” He looked at Victor and blinked, “But you probably like it because you literally skate for a living.  Right.  I forgot.” 

Victor laughed.  Like a real full bodied laugh, something he felt like he hadn’t done in a while. “I’d love to skate with you, but I don’t have my skates.”

“Oh! I’ve got extra skates! A lot of my neighbours don’t skate that often, so they just leave their stuff here for our games,” Yuuri explained, getting up, “What shoe size are you? I’ve probably got some that’ll fit.”

“I’m a size ten!”  Victor’s heart skipped a beat.  He was going to skate with Yuuri.  He was going to impress Yuuri with his skating and, wait.  Yuuri said they leave their skates at his place between games.  Fuck.  They were going to be hockey skates.  Okay, he thought, I can make it work.  It can’t be that different.  If hockey players skate in them, I, THE Victor Nikiforov, can.

Yuuri had left down the hallway that led to the two bedrooms and returned with two hats, two scarves, and two pairs of gloves.  He handed one set to Victor and pulled on own his coat.  Victor quickly caught on and picked up his coat from where he’d left it at the front door and grabbed his shoes.

“I keep the stuff in my shed out back,” Yuuri grabbed what Victor assumed to be his own skates from beside the couch, and headed towards the kitchen, “I know there’s some skates for you out there, I just got to get them.  Come on, this way.” He said.  Victor followed him through his back door and looked over Yuuri’s pond.  It was a lot bigger than he was expecting, and shaped kind of like a fat peanut.  There was a small dock on the closest end of the pond that led to the house.  There were two hockey nets on the ice already, so Victor assumed he must have hosted a game recently.  To the right of the lake was a small shed, which Yuuri went into.  He came back out a minute later with a pair of skates.

“Let me know if those don’t fit, I should have some more,” Yuuri said as we went back into the shed.  Victor stared at the hockey skates in his hand.  Truth be told, he’d never even held a pair, so much as skated in them before.  The blade was more plastic than steel, but it looked sharp.  The balance seemed more pushed towards the front of the skate, and there was a noticeable lack of a heel.  Of course, Victor thought, they’re made for speed.  It makes sense. 

Yuuri came walked back towards Victor, his own skates slung over his shoulder.  Yuuri sat down on the edge of the dock and pulled the skates onto his feet.  He had them done up pretty quickly, and turned to look at Victor.

“Do you need help?” He asked.

“What? No.  I think I know how to put on skates.” He joked.

Yuuri smiled, “You were just looking at them at them pretty intently,” he said.  He took the skate guards off and set them on the dock.  Victor followed his movements with his eyes.

“The guards are fabric?” He asked.  He was so used to the plastic ones that allowed him to walk off the ice that it threw him off a little bit. 

“Helps with rust.” Yuuri shrugged, and slid off the dock landing on the ice and immediate pushing off on the skates, “The ice is thick enough everywhere, I checked it yesterday and the weather hasn’t changed since then, so don’t worry about falling through,” he called as he started skating laps around the rink.  Right, because falling through the fucking ice was a concern when you were in an arena, Victor thought.

“Okay,” he said to himself, “Хватит увиливать.”  He sat down where Yuuri had been sitting seconds ago and put the skates on.  They felt different than his figure skates, but not in a bad way.  He watched Yuuri for a second, who was building up speed from one end the pond to the other before turning to his side and stopping suddenly, only to quickly change directions and repeat the process.  Victor rolled his shoulders back and slid off the side of the dock.  It was only a foot drop with his long legs, so he didn’t notice any difference.  It felt good to be on the ice.  He went to push off onto his right foot and suddenly noticed the lack of picks.  Even trying to save himself, he still fell straight forwards onto his face.  

“Victor!” Yuuri called. He laid on the ice for a minute, face down.  He felt Yuuri’s hand on his back, “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine.  Just wondering how I ever became a skater in the first place, that’s all.” Victor said sourly.  It was his pride that hurt more than his body.  He really liked Yuuri and had wanted to impress him. 

Yuuri laughed, which finally made Victor break and laugh as well, “It’s hard to adjust to hockey stakes.  I’d just assumed you’d skated in them before, but obviously, I’m wrong.”

“You think?” Victor asked.  Yuuri and him sat on the ice for a minute laughing, before Yuuri stood up.

“Come on,” he said, “No more pouting, I’m teaching you how to skate.”  Yuuri mumbled something to himself in Japanese, and then extended a hand to Victor. 

“What was that?” Victor asked.

“Oh nothing,” Yuuri said, “I just can’t believe I have to teach the best figure skater in the world how to skate.

“Yuuri, you wound me, I can’t believe you would make such accusations.  I can skate!” Victor said.  Yuuri let go of his hands and Victor fell forwards again.  Yuuri caught him in his arms this time.  Victor thought that was a vast improvement to the last time he fell. 

“Okay, point taken,” Victor said.  Yuuri started explaining to Victor how to shift his weight to adapt to the skates and held his hands, skating backwards, while Victor figured it out.  Victor might have pretended he was unbalanced for longer than he needed to, but Yuuri didn’t mind.

“Do you think you’re ready to try something new?” Yuuri asked.

“I’m always ready to try something new,” Victor winked at Yuuri.  Yuuri looked at him, mouth agape for a second before skating over to the dock and returned with two hockey sticks and puck.  Victor stared at him. 

“That’s not really what I meant…” He said.

“You’re in Canada.  Time to enjoy what the country has to offer.” Yuuri says.  Victor looked at Yuuri pointedly.

“I already have been.” He said.  Yuuri threw a stick at Victor, who didn’t catch it and instead got it straight to the face, “That was uncalled for.”

“Put your stick on the fucking ice, Victor,” Yuuri said. 

“Put my what? Where?” Victor asked, taken aback.

Yuuri’s eyes widened, “No, no, no, it’s hockey talk, it means like get ready to play.”

“Oh,” Victor said, “In that case, I will put my stick on the fucking ice.”  Yuuri groaned, and threw the puck on the ice.  He started teaching Victor some simple puck handling, but mainly Victor just watched Yuuri, fascinated.  He’ll be the first to admit that he never found hockey interesting, but Yuuri was making it kind of fun.  He thought of the small games Yuuri hosted on this ice sometimes and wondered if he’d ever be able to catch up enough to play in one.  Maybe if they let me play in my normal skates, he thought.  He watched Yuuri take countless shots on an empty net, which he tried to replicate poorly. 

This was the first time in years that Victor felt out of his element on the ice, and he kind of loved it.  Yuuri and Victor played well into the afternoon, until the sun set and they couldn’t see any longer.  When they went back into Yuuri’s house, Yuuri was smiling and laughing freely with Victor, which was something he had seemed hesitant to do before.

“Are you hungry?” Yuuri asked, “I can cook, or we can order pizza or something.”

“Anything you want is fine by me,” Victor said, “Except I really can’t cook, so don’t expect any great help from me.” 

“As long as you do the dishes, I’m fine with that,” Yuuri said smiling and walked towards the fridge.  Victor slipped into the living room and started looking at his bookshelf.  Yuuri had books on everything, some in Japanese and in English.  There was a section full of law books, unsurprising in that it was his job to know the laws, but surprising in that it seemed like Yuuri and Phichit had no idea what a law even was.  He had books on science and history and classic literature. It was an interesting collection that suggested to Victor that Yuuri just simply liked to learn.  Yuuri walked into the living room with two bowls and set them down on the coffee table.

“What is it?” Victor asked, sitting down on the couch beside him.

“Kraft Dinner.  Like macaroni and cheese,” Yuuri said and placed a bottle of ketchup on the table.  Victor stared at him.

“Don’t you dare,” Victor whispered.  But Yuuri ignored him and loaded his food with ketchup.  Victor just looked on with horror.

“What?” Yuuri asked.

“I’m seriously reconsidering being attracted to you right now.” Victor said, eating his food casually.

Yuuri choked on his food, “Attracted?”

“Блядь.” Victor said, “I’m sorry, I probably made you uncomfortable.

“No it’s fine,” Yuuri said, “Let’s make a deal, you don’t comment on my use of ketchup, and I won’t bring that up.”

Victor’s heart sank a little, “Deal,” he said, getting up and collecting the bowls.  He did the dishes quietly while Yuuri stayed in the living room.  When he reentered, Yuuri was reading a book.  It struck him a little, how domestic this felt considering he’d only known Yuuri for less than twenty-four hours, and he couldn’t remember the first six.

“What are you reading?” Victor asked. 

“I’m not, really,” Yuuri said, “I was more thinking.” 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Victor said.

Yuuri chuckled softly, “Canada doesn’t have pennies.”

“Then a dollar for your thoughts, assuming they're worth it.” Victor joked.

Yuuri smiled, “I was thinking that maybe I’d let you stay here for more than a night because, to be honest, I’m having a lot of fun with you around.” 

Victor couldn’t control the dopey smile that broke out on his face and he leapt onto Yuuri and wrapped him in a hug, pushing him back onto the couch.

“I’d love to stay,” he said. And he and Yuuri laughed until the door suddenly burst open.  Victor looked up from his position on top of Yuuri on the couch, only to make eye contact with a very angry, very small Russain.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Victor!Ты уехал из России чтобы трахнуть свинью?”

“Oh, hello Yuri,” Victor said sitting up, “I’d like you to meet Yuuri.”

Yuuri sat up beside Victor and started, wide-eyed at Yuri.

“Did you… did you really have to kick my door in?” Yuuri asked. 

“Fuck yeah, of course I did.” Yuri answered.

“Why?”

“He’s just got a lot of teenage angst right now, Yuuri.  It’s hard for him not to be an asshole – MAKKACHIN!”

Victor looked like a toddler who had just been given a giant bag of candy as a rather large poodle burst through the door behind Yuri and jumped into Victor’s lap.  Yuri had moved into the house and was slumped into one of the armchairs and Victor was baby talking the poodle in Russian when he looked up at Yuuri again.  Yuuri was just staring open mouthed at his now broken door.

“I can fix that,” Victor said. 

“No you fucking can’t.”

“You’re right.  I can pay for that,” Victor corrected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> “Хватит увиливать” – Stop Stalling  
> “Блядь” - Fuck  
> “Ты уехал из России чтобы трахнуть свинью?” – You left Russia to fuck a pig?
> 
> YURIO IS HERE! Also there's the oblivious Yuuri we've all been waiting for (i've update the fic to slow burn for this reason lol)
> 
> Oh man, writing Victor's first time in hockey skates brought back memories of when my parents thought i should start using my brother's old skates instead of getting new figure skates every year. Needless to say, whenever I skate, I skate in figure stakes.
> 
> I never actually played hockey, but I'm canadian, so like i grew up around hockey and it's a thing and if it's a little incorrect idgaf tbh
> 
> I drew a layout of Yuuri's property if anybody is curious it's here: http://impolitecanadian.tumblr.com/private/156405134090/tumblr_okedlswCge1riu0zr
> 
> i love you all and i don't know when the next update will be, but there should be another one this weekend!
> 
> EDIT: I FORGOT THE FUCKING KEG STAND IM SO SAD
> 
> Edit: I got the keg stand in there!!!!! (Victor's original like was “What is there to do?” Victor asked, “It's Canada.”)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuur's POV! As promised, here's the answer as to how Yurio found them!
> 
> I know they speak other languages, but I'm lazy, so there's no translations in this one.

Yuri sat in one of Yuuri’s armchairs glowering at Victor, who was chatting away to him in Russian.  Yuuri slumped down onto the couch next to Victor, who broke his one-sided conversation with Yuri to smile at him.

“What I still don’t understand,” Yuuri said, “Is how you found out Victor was at my house.”

Yuri turned a cold look at Yuuri, “So,” he said, “you’re a pig.”

“A cop.” Yuuri answered.

“A pig.”

“An officer of the law.”

“A pig.”

Yuuri sighed and leaned back further into the couch, “I work for the government.”

“Whatever, piggy,” Yuri said and pointed at Yuuri and then Victor, “You should have been smarter about arresting his ass.”

“What are you saying, Yura?” Victor asked.

“I’m saying that you’re a fucking idiot.” Yuri responded and picked the remote up off the coffee table.  He turned on Yuuri’s TV and flipped the channel to ESPN.

“And in continuing a story that broke this morning,” The announcer on the TV said, “world class figure skater Victor Nikiforov still hasn’t made a comment or been seen since his arrest in Canada last night.  A member of the community where Nikiforov was arrested tweeted the photo early this morning in which you can clearly see him in handcuffs.  The only person to have commented was his rink mate, junior skater Yuri Plisetsky,” the TV shifted to a clip of Yuri doubled over in laughter with tears in his eyes, “Ah, what a dumbass,” he wheezed out.  Victor turned the TV off and Yuri looked immensely pleased with himself.

“Well, fuck.” Victor said, “How did you figure out it was Yuuri? You can’t see his face in the picture of me getting arrested.”  Victor was right, Yuuri’s back was to whoever took the picture, while a very drunk Victor beamed back at him over his shoulder.

“I didn’t.” Yuri shrugged his shoulders, “I went to the police station and asked the cop there.  He gave me a ride.”

Yuuri sat up, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He walked over to his window, and pulled open the curtain.  He took a deep breath and pulled out his phone. It rang quickly before it was answered.

“Phichit,” Yuuri said.

“Oh hi, Yuuri! How are you?” Phichit asked.

“I’d be better if a child you drove to my house hadn’t just kicked my door in.” Yuuri was still standing by the window and Victor watched him intently. 

“Okay, to be fair,” Phichit responded, “I didn’t know he was going to kick your door in.”

“Phichit.”

“Yes, Yuuri?”

“Since you’re still parked in my driveway, would you like to come in?” Yuuri asked.  Phichit looked up to the window and waved at Yuuri from the patrol car.  Yuuri closed the curtain again and turned away from the window, “Get my toolbox from the shed before you come in,” Yuuri told him and hung up.  Sure enough, Phichit came in through the still open front door with Yuuri’s tool box less than two minutes later.

“You really should close your door, Yuuri,” Phichit said handing him his box, “You’re just wasting heat at this point.”  Yuuri put his hand on Phichit’s shoulder and pushed him inside the house.

“Oh, hi Victor nice to see you, and nice to see you again child I’ve never met.” Phichit said, and Yuuri snorted from the door frame he was now inspecting with a tape measure. 

“Is he trying to fix that?” Victor asked, watching Yuuri with interest.

“Oh, not trying,” Phichit answered, he gestured around the room, “He renovated this place this place himself.  It’s his only skill other than keg stands.  He knows what he’s doing.”

“Then why’d he bitch so much when I broke it?” Yuri didn’t even bother looking up from his phone.

“Yuri,” Yuuri said, “Shut up." 

Yuri stood up, “Excuse me? Catch me outside, how about that?”

“Yuri,” Victor said, “shut the fuck up.”

Yuri sat back down, “Alright then.” 

“Yuri?” Victor said, and both Yuris turned to look at him.

“That’s going to get confusing,” Phichit said.  He pointed at Yuri, “You’re younger so you get a nickname.”  He paused to think for a minute, “You shall henceforth be known as Yurio.”

“Fuck no!” Yuri said.

“Hey, that rhymes!” Victor said while Phichit laughed at Yurio’s face.  Yuuri shook his head and pulled the front door completely off its hinges and leaned it against the wall.

“Hey numbnuts,” Yurio said, “You’re supposed to be fixing the door, not taking it down.” 

Yuuri’s back straightened and he turned around, “Victor?” he said.  

“What?” Victor looked and him and Yuuri nodded his head towards Yurio.

“Oh!” Victor smiled and then leaned over and knocked Yurio on the back of the head.  Yuuri contentedly went back to fixing the door hinges.

“So what are you going to do about the whole scandal?” Phichit asked.  Victor’s smiled disappeared and he put his hand to his mouth thinking.

“Yurio? Did Yakov tell you anything?” Victor asked.

“How would I know? He thought I was getting on the plane to Russia behind him.” Yurio still looked completely disinterested in the conversation.

“He doesn’t know you’re here?” Yurio shook his head, “Then you can call him and tell him.  I’m not dealing with it.” Victor told him before his phone began ringing in his pocket. 

“It’s Yakov, isn’t it?” Yurio asked delighted. Victor huffed and answered the phone.

“Oh hi, Yakov!” He said brightly, “At least I look good in the picture, right?  I’m sure PR can turn this around somehow.  No?  Yakov, Yakov, listen, it’s not like I chose for this to happen, although I don’t regret it, honestly.  I’m having more fun than I’ve had in – okay, yes I get it.  Lay low for a bit.  Will you stop yelling if I tell you where Yuri is? I… Right.” 

Victor held out the phone with a smug look on his face, “Here Yurio, he wants to talk to you.”  Yurio took the phone and began speaking quick-fire Russian as he left the room.  

Yuuri fitted the door back onto its hinges and opened a closed it a few times to make sure it fit properly, “You know, I can arrest him for trespassing and property damage,” he said swinging the door closed and locking it.

“It’s not trespassing when you let him into your house,” Phichit pointed out.

“I didn’t officially invite him in.  Couldn’t this constitute as breaking and entering?” Yuuri asked. 

“Shit man,” Phichit shrugged, “we should really touch up our legal knowledge shouldn’t we?”

“Probably.” Yuuri agreed as he flopped down on the couch between Phichit and Victor. 

Yurio re-entered the room and threw Victor’s phone at him, “Yakov says that we need to stay in Canada for at least a week so that this can die down a little bit.  He wants you training while you’re here and you have to be back in Russia before the NHK Trophy, and obviously before the Grand Prix Final.”

“Well, there’s a problem with me training here,” Victor said, “I don’t have my skates.”

“Yes you do,” Yuri gestured to the suitcases at the door that Phichit had unloaded from the cruiser while Yuuri fixed the door, “I brought your suitcases with me and the mutt” 

Victor smiled, “I would hug you if Makkachin weren’t asleep,” he gestured to the poodle laying on his feet.

“Thank god for small miracles,” Yurio replied, “Look, I’m tired.  I won the junior division of Skate Canada yesterday and then had to follow your drunk ass to the middle of butt-fuck nowhere Canada, so can I have somewhere to sleep, or what?”

Yuuri looked at him, “You’re staying here?”

“Well if Victor is getting 24-hour access to ice I sure as fuck am.” Yurio responded.

“24-hour… oh you mean my pond.” Yuuri shook his head and looked at Victor in a silent conversation of ‘is he always like this?’, ‘Yeah, pretty much’. 

“Right.  Okay, go down the hall and take the door to your left, that’s the guest room.  You can sleep there.” Yuuri told him and stood to help him with his luggage. 

“I don’t need help from a fucking pig,” Yurio snapped at him, and Yuuri sat back down in response. 

Victor waited until Yurio had left the room to apologize to Yuuri, “I’m sorry.  I’ll speak with him; he can’t talk to you like that.”

Yuuri sighed, “Leave it.  Some people don’t like cops.  I can deal with it.”  Victor pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything.   

Yuuri looked at his watch and turned to Victor, “It’s getting late.  Maybe we should go to bed.  You can sleep in my room.”

“Oooooh,” Phichit whistled and Yuuri blushed furiously.

“No, I didn’t mean… I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s fine.” Yuuri stuttered through the sentence and felt even more embarrassed then he already did. 

Victor smiled good naturedly, “Of course.  I’ll take my bags and be right back.” He left the room pretty quickly with a sleepy poodle following in his footsteps.  Phichit made it until Victor left the room before breaking down in laugher.

“Oh Yuuri,” he managed to say, “You should have seen you face when you realized what you implied.”

Yuuri elbowed him in the side, “Phichit.  Don’t you have a job to be doing?”

“Don’t you have an attractive figure skater to be doing?” Phichit elbowed him back.  Yuuri choked on nothing and turned to look at Phichit wide-eyed.

Phichit threw his hands up, “Sorry, you kind of walked right into that one.”

“Phichit?”

“Yeah?”

“Go home.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Phichit said standing up, “I’ll see you tomorrow at work?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said, closing the door behind Phichit and locking it.  He heard Phichit pull out of the driveway and made his way towards his bedroom.  He knocked before opening the door.  Victor was sitting on the floor with Makkachin speaking to her in Russian in a fairly serious tone. 

“Sorry, Victor, I was just-” Victor jumped at the sound of Yuuri’s voice and looked up at him, with a blush spreading across his cheeks.  Yuuri briefly wondered what he had been saying to his dog, but quickly reminded himself that it’s none of his business.

“I was just here to get blankets and my pyjamas,” Yuuri finished.

“Of course, I’m sorry I’m taking up your bed.” Victor said.

“Oh, well it won’t just be you of course,” Yuuri laughed and then froze abruptly.  Both of their eyes widened, “I… I meant the dog.  She’s welcome on the furniture.  So I meant… Nevermind.”

“Yuuri,” Victor chuckled, “You’ve got to learn to stop saying things like that.  My heart can’t take it.”

“I… Sorry,” Yuuri reached up and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.  He realized too late that his shirt had ridden up a little bit to show his lower abdomen and he quickly put his arm down.  Victor licked his lips and looked back up at Yuuri’s face. 

“What… What was I here for?” Yuuri asked, a little breathlessly. 

“Uhm blankets?” suggested Victor. 

“Right.  That.” Yuuri took them from his closet with a pair of pyjamas and clothes for tomorrow so he wouldn’t wake Victor up in the morning. “Well, uh, goodnight Victor.” 

“Goodnight,” Victor said softly.  Yuuri turned to leave but Victor caught his wrist and pulled so he would bend down to his level.  “Oh, and Yuuri?” 

He put his fingers on the bottom of Yuuri’s chin and tilted his head up to look him in the eyes, “Thank you.  For… for everything.” 

Yuuri swallowed, “You’re welcome.”  Victor took his hands off Yuuri’s face and Yuuri left the room.  He closed the door and leaned back against it.

“Christ,” He whispered.  He shook his head and walked back into the living room, and tried to leave his thoughts of Victor’s hands on his skin behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yuuri's got a boner lol)
> 
> Phichit is the love of my life, also Yurio needs to get put in his place a little. Yuri's dislike of cops actually has a reason behind it i didn't just put that in there to make him more of an ass
> 
> This fic might never update again because i might kill my roommate and get arrested (actually there'll be another update on thursday probably)
> 
> sorry there's no real update schedule, uni is kind of kicking my ass right now
> 
> but thank you for all of the support this fic is getting! im a slut for attention so thank you!!!!!!!
> 
> To all Muslim readers, please know that I love you and what is happening right now in the United States cannot and will not stand. Please stay safe and alert in these coming months


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol there is no consistent pov in this chapter so good luck
> 
> buckle your fucking seat belts because a lot of stuff is about to happen

Yuuri woke up to the sound of his back door being shut.  He stretched and looked at the clock only to see that it almost 6:00am.  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and wandered into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.  While waiting for the coffee and being practically dead, Yuuri somehow changed into his uniform and slipped on a coat.  He poured two mugs of coffee and slipped out the back door.  He spotted Victor quickly, but didn’t call out for him.  Instead he stood quietly by the back deck and just watched him skate.

So the hockey skates really did make a difference, Yuuri thought to himself as his eyes followed Victor around the pond.  He wasn’t doing anything particularly special, just switching skating forwards and backwards every so often in lazy loops across the ice.  Yuuri knew he was warming up, and figured now was the best time to interrupt him.  He walked quickly to the deck and sat down on the edge of it.  Victor met him as he took a seat, his face beaming. 

“Did I wake you? I didn’t mean to,” Victor said, gratefully taking the mug of coffee from Yuuri’s hand. 

“It’s fine.  I have to leave for work in like an hour anyways,” Yuuri smiled back at Victor, “I didn’t realize you were such a morning person.”

“I’m used to early morning practices,” Victor shrugged, “It’s kind of a routine.  Do you think the ice is safe to jump on?”

Yuuri pursed his lips, “The ice was around a foot-thick last time I checked.  Since that can usually hold a truck, I’m sure you’re fine.”  Victor smiled and put down his mug.  He started skating again.  He was keeping eye contact with Yuuri as he started doing more complex footwork.

“Watch this,” Victor called, and built up speed to launch himself into a jump.  Yuuri didn’t know anything about skating but it looked impressive.  Victor started performing more jumps in quick succession, each gaining more height and spins.

“Are you still watching?” Victor asked. 

“Of course,” Yuuri answered, as if I could take my eyes off of you, he added to himself.  Victor sprung into a jump with the most height Yuuri had seen yet.

“The idiot’s trying to impress you, you know?” Yurio grumbled behind him, skates in hand. 

“He’s just doing jumps,” Yuuri defended.

“That was a quad flip.  His signature move.  Not that you know, obviously.” Yuuri opened his mouth to object, but Victor was skating towards them. 

“Yurio! Good to see you! Put on your skates and we’ll see if we can clean up your foot work!” He smiled brightly at Yuuri, “You know, Yuuri’s actually quite quick on his feet.  I’d like to see him in figure skates.”  Yuuri blushed behind his coffee mug.

“You can’t be serious.  He plays hockey.” Yurio said as though it was self-explanatory.

“Yes, and very well, actually. Oh! I have a great idea!” Victor was beginning to bounce around like an over excited puppy, “We should have a hockey-off!”

Yurio blinked, “A hockey-off?” 

“Yeah! Me and Yuuri can be on a team, and you and Phichit can try to beat us!” Victor looked so happy that Yuuri couldn’t stand to say no to him.

“Sure, I’m on board, and Phichit will do anything as long as there’s pizza.” Yuuri said.

“I’m not fucking doing it.” Yurio said coldly.

“I’ll teach you any quad of your choice.” Victor offered. 

Yurio thought it over for a minute before he grumbled, “Fine.  I’ll do it,” and skated away.  Victor’s eyes were shinning with joy and Yuuri couldn’t help but be struck by how adorable he was.  Yuuri finished his coffee, watching Yurio and Victor skate.  Victor was relaxed on the ice and Yuri’s anger seemed to diminish significantly as he skated.  Yuuri smiled to himself and stood to go back inside.  He waved to Victor and Yurio before stepping inside and washing his and Victor’s mugs.  He picked his keys up off the counter and hesitated.  

Yuuri really didn’t want to go to work, he’d much rather stay home with Victor, but he also knew that his job made him a public servant or something like that, so he’d have to go.  He sighed, and walked outside.  Victor was standing by the cruiser when Yuuri turned away from the door.

“What are you doing?” Yuuri asked him.

“Taking a break.  I thought I’d say goodbye.  Wish you good luck.” Victor’s smile was infectious and Yuuri felt himself smiling as he walked down the steps to his patrol car. 

“You don’t have to do that,” He said. 

“Nonsense, I want to.” Victor was casually leaning against the driver’s door, definitely not stalling Yuuri from leaving.  Some of Victor’s hair had fallen into his eyes, and without really thinking about it, Yuuri reached up and pushed it back.  His hand froze by Victor’s face and Yuuri felt his eyes widen.

“Is it getting that thin?” Victor chuckled. 

“No, no, no! It’s fine! I mean I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to.  I shouldn’t have…” 

“It’s fine,” Victor cut him off, taking Yuuri’s hand into his own.  Yuuri cleared his throat and shifted his weight.  They didn’t say anything, rather they just kind of stood there silently, searching each other’s eyes.  Yuuri wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, but he thought that maybe, with time, he’d find it.

Yuuri cleared his throat, “I need you to move.  I have to go to work.”

“Right,” Victor said, stepping aside, “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Yuuri paused, “Are you going to be okay here for the day?  I’ll see if I can get time off this week, but I don’t know.” 

“Yurio and I will be fine, Yuuri. We’ve got skates and ice, and that’s really all we need.” Victor opened the car door for Yuuri, who quickly got in, “I’ll see you tonight.” 

Yuuri smiled and reached for the door handle when Victor stopped him, putting his cellphone in Yuuri’s hand.  “I might need your number.  You know, just in case,” He said sheepishly.  Yuuri chuckled and quickly put in his information.  Victor backed away and let Yuuri close the door.  Before he even pulled away his phone binged with a text from Victor, who’s number he quickly put into his phone.

 

**Victor @7:32am**

Heyyyy guess who ;)

 

**Sent @ 7:32am**

The Russian Mafia?

 

**Victor @7:32am**

uhm thats racist

 

**Victor @7:33am**

im joking Yuuri i swear pls dont be sad

 

**Sent @7:35**

Victor, I need to drive.

 

**Victor @7:35**

shit sorry

\---------------------------------

Phichit jumped up as soon as Yuuri was in the office.

“How’d your night with a hot Russian in your bed go?” He asked immediately.

“I’m not fucking him, Phichit.” Yuuri told him plopping down at his desk.

“Yet,” Phichit said, earning him a pointed glare from Yuuri, “What are you going to do with him tonight?”

“Excuse me?!” Yuuri’s face turned beet red and he stared open mouthed at Phichit.

“I meant with your practice!” Phichit said quickly, “You’ve got practice at the arena on Tuesdays. So are you just going to leave him at your house?”

“Fuck. I didn’t even think about that,” Yuuri ran a hand over his face, “I mean I could invite him to come along, but I don’t know if he’d like it.”

“He’d like it.” Phichit said simply.

Yuuri leaned back in his chair, debating the pros and cons of bringing Victor to practice, “But what about Yurio? He’s too old for a babysitter, but he might burn down my house.”

Phichit shrugged, “Take him too?”

“You and I both know there’s no way in hell he’d go.”

“I could hang out with him at your house for a while tonight?” Phichit offered.

“I don’t know if that’s any better.  A teenager, a poodle, and a barely functional adult are not my top choices to leave alone in my house.” Yuuri said.

“Barely functional adult?” Phichit put his hand to his chest, “Yuuri, that’s the sweetest thing anybody has ever said to me.” 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, “Actually, could you start teaching Yurio hockey?  Victor and Yurio might have made a bet that involves us…”

Phichit leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his desk, “I’m listening.” 

“So we’re going to do a two-on-two hockey game.  Me and Victor against you and Yurio. Victor said he’d teach Yurio a quad or something like that.  Are you in?” Yuuri asked.

“Let me think about it.”

“There’ll be booze and pizza.”

“I’m in.”

“Thank god,” Yuuri said relieved, “We’re going to have it on Friday, does that work?” 

“Perfect,” Phichit smiled and grabbed Yuuri’s phone off his desk when it chimed, “Oh my god.  Victor’s texting you!” 

“Yeah, I gave him my number this morning,” Yuuri tried to say casually, but his voice might have raised an octave.  Phichit raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything as he calmly unlocked Yuuri’s phone.

“Aw, he sent you a picture of his dog sliding around on your pond.” Phichit said holding up Yuuri’s phone so he could see.

“Aw, Makkachin is so- wait, how did you unlock my phone?” Yuuri asked. 

“Not important,” Phichit said, “I’m going to ask Victor to suck your dick, is that cool?” 

“Phichit, I will literally murder you.  And there’s like a law against that.” Phichit handed Yuuri his phone without incident, and Yuuri sent a quick text to Victor to let him know that Makkachin was indeed adorable.  Yuuri paused, looking at his phone before texting Victor again.

 

**Sent @ 10:07am**

Any interest in coming to a practice tonight at the local arena?

 

**Victor @10:07am**

hockey?????????? :)

 

**Sent @10:08am**

Yeah.  I know you don’t like hockey that much, but I have to go and I thought maybe you’d like to see the rink?

 

**Victor @10:08am**

id love to omg cant wait!!!!!!! :) <3

 

**Sent @10:08am**

Great! I’ll be home at 4:30!

 

While the heart added to Victor’s text did cause him to pause, Yuuri couldn’t help but smile.  Phichit raised his eyebrows again, but kept quiet, instead choosing to continue on his paperwork.  Yuuri turned his attention to the work in front of him and tried not to ignore it in favour of thinking about Victor.  He was fairly unsuccessful in this regard as his thoughts kept slipping back to Victor’s smile, or the way his hands had felt on Yuuri’s bare skin, or how soft his hair was or… okay Yuuri focus, he thought.  It really didn’t help that he was filling out a police report on Victor’s arrest.  Yuuri looked at the clock and inhaled deeply.  He could make it until 4:30.

\------------------------------

When they pulled up to the arena Victor was unbuckling his seatbelt before they were even parked.  Yuuri chastised him a little bit because cops have to uphold the law, but mainly he let it slip.  After refusing four times, he finally let Victor carry his duffle bag from the car to the rink just to shut him up.  When they made it inside, nearly everyone turned around and greeted him warmly.

“Is this your team?” Victor asked, his mouth closer to Yuuri’s ear than it realistically needed to be. 

Yuuri looked at him confused, “Yeah, kind of, I guess.”

“Dressing room?” Victor asked, and Yuuri shook his head.

He shrugged, “I don’t need a change room for tonight since I’m not wearing any gear.”

Victor looked at him like what Yuuri said had deeply offended him, “What if they body check you? You could fall into the boards and die, Yuuri! Think about your safety!”

Yuuri only looked more confused as he sat on the stands next to the rink and pulled on his skates, “Yes, of course, I’m sure they’re out for my blood Victor, but I’ll be fine.  I’m a fast skater.”

“You should still wear a helmet,” Victor said still looking upset.

“I will,” Yuuri said pulling it out of his duffle bag and standing up, “I need to set a good example, after all.” 

“Fine,” Victor still wasn’t happy about Yuuri’s lack of equipment, but he didn’t know enough about Hockey to say anything.  Yuuri finished strapping on his helmet and turned to the doors of the rink.  His face brightened immensely and he turned to Victor with joy shining in his eyes.

“Here comes my team!” He said excitedly.  Victor turned to get a look at Yuuri’s team and instead saw a group of around fifteen children in hockey gear wobbling towards Yuuri. 

Victor blinked, “Your team is full of children,” he said confused.

“Of course,” Yuuri said equally confused, “I coach the local Timbits team. I thought you knew that?”  Yuuri opened the door for the kids to stream onto the ice, giving each of them a high-five as they skated on. 

“You are nothing but surprises, aren’t you?” Victor asked gazing amazedly at Yuuri, “Who knew a badass cop with a knack for keg-stands could also be the world’s best coach?” 

Yuuri blushed a little and smiled softly up at Victor, “I’m only the best coach because I have the best team.”  He closed the rink door in front of Victor and skated away from him to the group of children gathered in the center of the rink.  Victor heard him shout something about stretches and he saw the kids all sit down clumsily on the ice.  He chuckled to himself and sat down in the arena stands.

“Mine’s the one number 17.” A woman with a kind face eased down next to Victor, “Which one’s yours?”

Victor chuckled softly, “The coach, I guess.” 

“Yuuri?” She asked and Victor nodded, a grin spreading across his face, “Good for you.  He’s a catch. A real stand-up guy, honestly,” She waved at her kid who was skating nearby, “You know last season Darcy fell during a game and broke her arm? He came to the hospital with flowers for her and let her be ‘assistant coach’ for the rest of the season so she could stay a part of the team.”

Victor watched Yuuri passing a puck back and forth down the line of his players and felt slightly in awe of how good of a man Yuuri really was. 

“I guess I’m just saying don’t hurt him,” The woman said, nudging Victor in the ribs, “He deserves to be happy.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Victor told her, not taking his eyes off Yuuri.

“How’d you guys meet?” A father asked, as he sat down on the other side of Victor.

Victor snorted and then composed himself quickly, “Uhm… at his work.”

“Oh! Are you a cop, too?” The man on Victor’s right asked.

“No,” Victor hesitated, “I’m actually a skater.”

“Really? You should be out there helping him coach!” The woman said smiling brightly.

Victor tensed, “Well, I don’t play hockey, really.  I mean Yuuri’s taught me a few things, but I figure skate.”

“Figure skating is helpful in hockey,” the man said, “It can make you quicker on your feet.  Maybe you should get Yuuri in a pair of figure skates.  He’s already a menace on the ice, imagine what he could do with some of those skills, eh?” 

“Can you imagine, Dave?” The woman said. Dave laughed and punched Victor on the arm, 

“What did you say your name was?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m Victor Nik-- Victor.  Call me Victor.” Victor said offering his hand.  Since nobody had recognised him by his face yet he didn’t want to risk people recognising him by his name. 

“Nice to meet you, Victor.” They both said and then turned back to the practice.  Yuuri made eye contact with Victor and waved.  Victor waved back to him and watched him skate over to the boards.  Victor stood up and quickly joined him.

“I might have let it slip to the kids that you’re here,” Yuuri said blushing deeply, “And they want to see a real live figure skater do all those fancy jumps like on TV.  Would you mind?” 

“I don’t have my-” 

“They’re in my duffle.  I packed them in case you wanted to skate later.” Yuuri said embarrassedly.  Victor’s heart felt like it grew three sizes as he looked at Yuuri’s shy smile.

“I’d be honoured to skate for your team, Yuuri,” Victor said quietly and left him at the boards to put on his skates.  He heard Yuuri quickly explain to the parents what was happening, and to have them pass on the word to the parents that had stayed in the warmer part of the arena.  When Victor joined him on the ice he was quickly swarmed by the small children who all asked him a million questions like: 

Do you really have a gold medal? Uh, yes.  A few actually.

What do you mean a few? I have five gold medals from the Grand Prix Final, and an Olympic gold medal. 

Wow! Was it hard to win? Yes, but hard work pays off!

When are you and Coach Yuuri getting married? WHAT?

Victor didn’t try to teach the kids any figure skating moves after explaining to them that they had the wrong kind of skates on and could really hurt themselves.  While the kids were disappointed, they accepted Victor’s explanation and settled for watching him do a couple jumps.  Yuuri stood to the side smiling proudly as Victor explained what each jump was before he did them starting with singles, and ending with a quad flip.  Even some of the parents applauded him, which he had not been expecting, and evidently it showed on his face because Yuuri laughed at him.  When the practice ended, Victor skated some lazy loops around the rink when he overheard the woman he had been speaking to earlier talking to Yuuri.

“I like that boyfriend of yours,” She said, “You should bring him around more often.  In a real pair of skates next time though.”

Yuuri laughed, and said quietly, “He’s a good person, ma’am.  I like him too.”

And Victor skated directly into the boards.

\---------------------------

Friday came much too soon if you asked Victor (and if you asked Yuuri).  But it brought with it the hockey-off.  Out of fairness to Yurio and Victor, they were allowed to play in figure skates, while Phichit and Yuuri played in hockey skates.  Also, out of fairness to Victor and Yurio the game was going to be non-contact.  That didn’t stop Yuuri from slamming directly into Phichit the first second he got a chance, and it didn’t stop Phichit from enthusiastically returning the gesture.  The man at the Timbits practice hadn’t lied.  Yuuri was an absolute menace on the ice. 

The game was supposed to be the first team to five goals won, but Yuuri and Phichit could pinpoint the empty nets with scary accuracy and fire the pucks without hesitation, so that didn’t last long.  Had Victor known more about the game, he could have called them both out for icing, but decided not to.

Yurio swore as he dodged a puck Yuuri had aimed at the net.  He screamed at Victor in Russian to “keep his boyfriend under control”, which just sent Victor into hysterical laughter and he had to stand on the edge of the pond until he calmed down.  Yurio joined him shortly with a decisive “Fuck this shit” and stood beside him to watch Yuuri and Phichit brawl it out on the ice.  

In the end Yuuri won in a 31-27 game, and Victor skated to the center of the ice to hug him fiercely, which Yurio made gagging sounds at.  They broke apart after a Phichit interrupted with a full forty of vodka and a shot glass. 

He smiled wickedly at Yuuri, “Shot-out?”

“I don’t know a lot about hockey,” Victor said, “but I think it’s called a shoot-out.”

“No,” Yuuri said, taking off his helmet, “It’s a drinking game Phichit and I came up with.  You take a shot every time you miss the net.”

Phichit nodded solemnly, “and it gets harder to get a goal as you get drunker, so in turn you just get even drunker.  Honestly, you can’t lose.”

Victor laughed, “Can I join?” 

Yuuri and Phichit eyed each other, “What if every time he gets a goal, he drinks?” Yuuri suggested.

“Hey!” Victor said stomping his foot, “I’m not that bad.” 

“I know,” Yuuri said.

“But we can’t have you die of alcohol poisoning,” Phichit finished, and Yuuri nodded in agreement.

“Hey, Canadicks!” Yurio yelled as he skated towards them, “It’s 11:30am, you can’t be drinking hard liquor already.” 

“We can, and we will,” Phichit said, “but thank you for your input.”  Yurio mumbled something about idiocy and skated over to the dock to take off his skates.  Victor shrugged and took the bottle of vodka and glass from Phichit. 

Yuuri grabbed the bucket of pucks that he’d put on the side of the pond and placed it in the middle of the rink.  He dropped about ten and turned to smile at Victor.

“Call ‘em,” he said.  Victor just blinked. 

Phichit sighed and yelled out, “upper left!”  Yuuri quickly obliged and fired the puck at the net.  He landed in the upper left corner, like Phichit had told him to.  Phichit continued calling them, and Yuuri continued to land the shots, much to Victors amusement.  He skated up next to Yuuri who started to wind back for his next shot, and gently tapped his shoulder.  The puck missed the net and Yuuri turned to glare at Victor.

“Oops,” he said innocently and held out the full shot glass for Yuuri.  Yuuri knocked the vodka back without breaking eye contact with Victor, and oh my god that is ridiculously hot, Victor thought switching around his weight.  Yuuri handed back the shot glass with a devious smile and dropped another puck on the ice for Phichit.

Phichit sent the puck sideways, not anywhere near a net with a quick “whoops!” and reached for the vodka that Victor happily handed him.

Victor shifted his grip on his stick and looked at the puck in front of him.  Yuuri’s hands ghosted over his shoulders, and he leaned in close to his ear.

“Remember to keep your eyes on your target.  Feel the length of the stick, and use it to your advantage.” Yuuri said in a low voice.  Victor paled and looked directly up at the net.  He pulled back the stick and took his shot, and somehow actually got it in the net.  He was still stunned as Phichit shoved a full shot glass into his hands. 

He made sure he made direct eye contact with Yuuri as he knocked back the vodka, ignoring the burn in his throat.  Two can play at this game, he thought, come and get me, Katsuki.

\---------------------

Yurio would later tell them it was around 1:00pm when they stumbled into Yuuri’s house and Phichit pulled out a two-four.  Victor and Yuuri laughed and gratefully accepted the beers Phichit handed them.  They were practically sitting on top each other, and Yuuri kept picking up Victor’s hand just to look at both sides of it, bend the fingers and then set it back down on Victor’s knee giving it a satisfied pat.  Phichit kept giggling about something and Victor kept getting lost in the wonder that was Yuuri’s face.  

He wondered if Yuuri knew he had a birthmark under his left eye, oh no wait.  That’s an eyelash, never mind.  Victor reached out and caught the offending eyelash on his index finger.  He held it out to Yuuri.

“Make a wish, Yuuri,” he said quietly.

Yuuri looked surprised, “but you’re already here!” 

Phichit started giggling again and Yuuri exhaled deeply in response, blowing the eyelash off Victor’s finger.

 “Phichit?” Yuuri said, “Phichit, Phichit, Phichit, Phichit?”

“Yes, Yuuri my dear?” Phichit responded.

“It’s like 2:00pm on a Friday, isn’t it?” Yuuri asked. 

“You bet your tight little ass it is,” Phichit answered. 

Yuuri gasped, “But Phichit, if _I’M_ drunk, and _YOU’RE_ drunk, then who’s doing the whole police thing right now?”

Phichit stared at him for a minute and then gasped, “Nobody! I don’t think… Nobody Yuuri!”

“Man,” Yuuri said, “We fucking suck at our jobs.” 

Phichit laughed and high-fived him, “Can I… can I confess something?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said.

“Victor can’t hear me right now, right?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri reached over and covered Victor’s eyes, “Now he can’t what is it, Phichit? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.  I just don’t fucking know any laws, Yuuri.  Like none.  I don’t know who lets me be a police person because I don’t know any fucking laws.”  Phichit told him solemnly.

Yuuri started to choke up, “thank you for trusting me with that information, Phichit.  It really took a lot of courage for you to tell me.”

“I love you, man” Phichit said, also starting to choke up.

“Shit man,” Yuuri said, “I love you too, man.”

They stood up and hugged each other like their lives depended on it, “No homo tho, man,” Phichit said, “Save that for Victor.”

Victor laughed, “Yes, hit me with that gay shit.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said, and sat down on his lap.  A sober Victor would have had a very different response to this little endeavour than a very drunk Victor could manage.  But Victor appreciated the sentiment all the same.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but all three of them eventually began yawning.  Phichit stood up first and looked at Yuuri.

“We don’t have enough beds,” Phichit stated, “You can’t draw the gremlin out of that room.  Or get him wet.  Or feed him after midnight.”

“We’re talking about Yurio, right?” Victor asked, but Phichit breezed past his question.

“I, as the self-sacrificing martyr I always am, will take the couch,” Phichit continued, “So Yuuri and Victor can sleep in Yuuri’s room.  Okay, bye guys, I want to sleep.” 

Victor and Yuuri stood up, somewhat wobbly (okay a lot wobbly) and started heading towards Yuuri’s room.  On the way down the hall Victor could have sworn he heard Phichit say “high-five to matchmaker of the fucking year” and a slapping sound, but he was drunk, which makes him an unreliable narrator.

As they stumbled into Yuuri’s room, Yuuri kept rambling about how he would sleep on the floor.  Makkachin looked up at the two of them with a rather expression, but quickly put her head back down on her paws. 

“Yuuri,” Victor rolled the R in Yuuri’s name, sending a shiver down Yuuri’s back, “We can share the bed.  It’s okay.” 

Yuuri nodded and crawled into the bed.  Victor stood there hesitantly watching Yuuri, until Yuuri pulled back the comforter beside him and patted the mattress.  Victor honestly wasn’t sure if his drunk ass had ever moved that fast before.

\-------------------------------

Yuuri woke up and realized he was using Victor as a pillow.  The room had grown dark and he assumed it must be early morning at some point.  He checked his watch, which read 11:30pm.  Yuuri ran his hand over his face and sighed.  He was at a pleasant point of left over drunkenness, where he didn’t quite feel tipsy anymore, but the hangover hadn’t set in yet.  He shifted his weight on the mattress and heard Victor mumble something above him.  Yuuri sat up slowly.

“Good morning,” Victor said, a smile on his face. 

“Evening,” Yuuri said, “It’s still Friday.”

“Good,” Victor burrowed deeper into his pillow, “If it were Saturday that’d mean I have to leave.” 

Victor’s words felt like a stab wound to the chest.  Victor and hell, even Yurio, had only been staying at his house for a week, but they already felt like a pretty permanent addition.  Yuuri jumped out of bed, grateful he was still wearing his clothes and ran outside.  He stood on the dock, in his now wet socks and blinked at the dark pond in front of him.  Why did he let himself get attached so quickly?

He heard the door of the house open and shut and Victor silently took his place beside him, wrapping Yuuri’s coat around his shoulders.  He pressed dry socks into Yuuri’s hands and sat down on the edge of the dock.  Yuuri watched Victor put on his skates and lazily begin skating laps around the pond.  He realized what Victor was doing before he looked down and saw his hockey skates perched on the edge of the dock.  Victor was giving Yuuri time to join him on the ice when he felt ready to talk.

When Yuuri skated to the centre of the pond, Victor took a minute before joining him, letting Yuuri work out what he wanted to say.  It took Yuuri too long to realize he was going to have to lead the conversation, and he felt mildly awkward just looking at Victor’s pursed lips. 

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Yuuri could think to say.

“Why?” Victor asked, “You didn’t do anything wrong.  I pushed.  I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, Victor, no!” Yuuri reached out and took his hand, “You’ve only ever been amazing.”

Victor huffs out a breath that might have been relief, “Then why did you run?”

“Because you reminded me that it’s all going to end,” Yuuri felt the tears well up in his eyes and prayed that they wouldn’t fall “That you’re going back across the world.  Back to Russia, and skating and fame. And I’m stuck here.  And I know you’re not my boyfriend or anything, but God, Vitya, I’ve gotten used to having you here.” 

Victor froze, “What did you just call me?”

“Vitya?” Yuuri said shakily, “On the night we met, it was what you told me to call you.  You wouldn’t answer to anything else.”

Victor laughed softly, “That sounds like me.”

“Is… is it okay if I call you that?” Yuuri asked.  At some point he and Victor had moved closer, and Yuuri stood with his hand flat on Victor’s chest.  He liked to imagine that Victor’s heart was beating as fast as his. 

“It’s wonderful, Yuuri.” Victor said quietly.  And Yuuri started crying.  Victor wrapped him in his arms before he could hesitate and let Yuuri cry into his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he whispered, “I’m not good when people cry.”

Yuuri gave a wet laugh, “You’re doing fine.”

“Really,” he said, “Because you’re still crying.” 

“That’s because you’re still leaving, Victor.” Yuuri said pulling away to look at him, “And I’m the idiot who’s started to fall for you.  And I knew you wouldn’t stay.  I knew the whole time that you couldn’t.” 

“You could ask me to,” Victor put his hand on Yuuri’s cheek, forcing him to meet his eyes. 

“No, I couldn’t.” Yuuri whispered hoarsely, “You have a life Victor.  And it’s in Russia.”

“But you’re here,” Victor pointed out.

Yuuri put his hand on top of Victor’s and leaned into his touch, “I know Vitya, because my life is here.”

“Yuuri, you’re right.  I have to go back to Russia.” Victor said and Yuuri’s breath caught, a new stream of tears falling, “But I could come back… After the Grand Prix Final, of course.  I mean if you’ll have me.” Yuuri pulled back and looked at Victor with watery eyes.

“You’re serious?” He asked. 

“I’m serious, Yuuri.” Victor reached out and wiped a tear off Yuuri’s cheek.  Yuuri’s face immediately broke into a huge smile and he jumped into Victor’s arms, knocking him flat onto his back on the ice.  Victor wasn’t sure if it was the fall or the weight of Yuuri’s body on top of his that knocked the breath out of him, but either way, he wasn’t going to complain.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” Victor said, and he felt Yuuri vigorously nod against his chest.

They stayed like that, pressed against each other on the ice, until Victor started to feel water seep through his winter jacket.  He tapped Yuuri’s shoulder, and Yuuri rolled off him.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we’re going to melt the ice,” Victor joked badly, and Yuuri actually laughed.  Victor stood up first, and Yuuri stayed sitting on the ice, probably contemplating something.  Victor held out his hand, which Yuuri accepted graciously.  When Victor pulled him up off the ice he pulled him directly against him and pressed their lips together.

It was gentle, and over far too quickly.  Victor broke it off, searching Yuuri’s face for the hint that this was alright.  That he was okay with this.  He got his confirmation when Yuuri threw his arms around Victor’s neck and pulled him into a deeper kiss.  Victor felt Yuuri’s lips move against his and it took him a whole second to remember that he needed to partake too.  He put his hand at the nape of Yuuri’s neck and weaved it into his hair, trying to absorb every feeling, every taste, in this moment.  It wasn’t one Victor wanted to forget.  Especially when Yuuri started moaning against his mouth.  Victor swallowed every sound Yuuri made, and briefly smiled against his lips.  Yuuri still tasted like alcohol, but Victor couldn't find it in himself to care.

When Yuuri broke the kiss Victor could not stop the slight groan of objection that escaped his lips.  Yuuri put his hand against Victor’s chest pushing him back a little bit.  Victor grabbed Yuuri’s coat and pulled him towards him, his skates allowing them both to glide over the ice easily in this game of tug-o-war. 

Yuuri laughed softly, “Come on Vitya, I want to go to bed.”

“Are you joking?” Victor asked.

Yuuri bit his lip and leaned forward.  His breath was hot against Victor’s chilled ears, “I said I wanted to go to bed.  I didn’t say anything about sleeping,” he whispered.  Victor watched awestruck as Yuuri skated away.

“Oh?” Victor said, “OH!” and he nearly stumbled over his own skates to get to where Yuuri was waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idiots finally got their fucking act together! (and i do mean fucking act ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))
> 
> Phichit is actually everything i aspire to be and my god did he get plastered (also something i aspire to be)
> 
> sorry for the late update ive got papers and im looking for a place to live next year and its just exhausting which is why there will only be one update this week sorry guys
> 
> please keep the comments coming i love them and literally reread them all week!!!!
> 
> CONTEXT FOR CANADIAN SLANG/THINGS
> 
> Timbits- a Canadian minor league hockey thing sponsored by Tim Hortons where kids learn to play hockey and it's amazing! I picture Yuuri's kids around 4-6 and they're all adorable. (also small shout-out to my brother who played 17 his whole hockey career) i just want Yuuri to have kids and be happy  
> *disclaimer: timbits are also delicious doughnut holes you can get from timmies and they're great
> 
> Forty of vodka- a 40 is slang for the size of a bottle of hard liquor (usually spirits) that's 40oz, doesn't have to be vodka, i just like vodka best lol
> 
> two-four - a 24 pack of beer
> 
> ^these were all i could think of, if theres more Canadian that needs translating let me know
> 
> talk to me on tumblr! http://impolitecanadian.tumblr.com/


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No translations because I'm super fucking lazy
> 
> Yuuri's POV

When Yuuri wakes up the first thing he remembers is that he kissed Victor, and more importantly Victor kissed him back.  Okay, so maybe that’s not completely correct since Victor had intiated the first kiss, but still.  Victor-fucking-Nikiforov kissed Yuuri, and his head was still spinning from it.  That or the vodka (hint: it’s probably from the vodka).  He hadn't felt this giddy since his last keg stand.

Yuuri shifted his weight a little bit to reach for his glasses and his phone, but froze when Victor groaned against his chest.  His very bare chest.  For a split second Yuuri wondered if he and Victor had sex last night before remembering that he hadn’t let it get that far.  A hand on Victor’s chest in the middle of a heavy make-out session had been all it took to convey to Victor that he needed more time, which Victor was perfectly okay with.  Yuuri ducked his head down and kissed the top of Victor’s hair. 

“I know it’s getting thin,” He said propping his head up to look at Yuuri, “there’s no need to mock me.”

Yuuri chuckled and ran his hand through Victor’s hair, “It seems fine to me.  Although it’s a strange you went grey so young,” he teased.

“It’s platinum not grey, okay.  And if you keep saying rude things like that I’m breaking up with you.”

Yuuri paused, “Are we?  Dating, I mean.”

“Do you want to be?” Victor asked pushing himself up on his arm so he could look Yuuri straight in the face.

“You’re going back to Russia in like four hours,” Yuuri said using the space Victor granted him to reach for his glasses.

Victor shrugged, “I don’t see how that’s relevant.” 

“You don’t?” Victor’s face became suddenly clear in Yuuri’s vision, the morning light was catching his eyes, making them a startling ice blue.  Appropriate for a skater, Yuuri thought.

“We can do the long distance thing,” Victor said staring intently at Yuuri, “I haven’t been this happy in a long time.  I’m not giving it up that easily.”

Yuuri reached up and cupped Victor’s cheek in his hand, “Would you really be okay with it?  With starting something, with it being so new, and then just leaving?” 

Victor sighed and leaned into his hand, “If I could I would stay, you know that.”

“I do?” Yuuri asked quietly.

“You should,” Victor’s face softened, “I was serious yesterday.  If you’ll have me, I plan on coming back.”

“I believe you,” Yuuri whispered, “So are we dating?”

“You make the call, Yuuri,” Victor said.

“I think I made the call the moment you kissed me.” Yuuri told him, and Victor’s titled his head in confusion, “Yes, Victor.  We’re dating.” He added as clarification.

Victor’s face broke out into a huge grin and he leaned down to kiss Yuuri.  He hesitated briefly, giving Yuuri the chance to pull away.  But that was the exact opposite of what Yuuri wanted, so he moved his hand off of Victor’s cheek and laced it through the short hairs at the base of his neck, pulling him down to meet him.  The kiss wasn’t rushed and passionate like it had been last night, a desperate attempt to convey everything Yuuri was thinking through his lips.  Instead it was slow and almost lazy.  There was a kind of comfort in it, in the small surety that this wasn’t going away forever.  That Victor might leave, but he was going to come back.  

At some point Yuuri had rolled on top of Victor and was straddling his lap, Victor’s fingers pressing pleasantly into his hips, while Yuuri did a number on Victor’s typically smooth and organized hair.  The kisses became less lazy, more hungry, and Yuuri started rocking his hips without thinking about it, and Victor gasped against his mouth, but began moving to the same rhythm.  Yuuri thought about how easily he could lose himself in this.  How the rest of his life could be spent kissing Victor and he would consider it an accomplishment.  Victor’s hands starting moving across Yuuri’s bare back, and when Yuuri pulled away to start kissing Victor’s neck, Victor’s nails dug into his shoulder blades.  Not that Yuuri minded.  Victor leaned his head back against the headboard of the bed and moaned slightly.  They were both trying to be quiet, but Yuuri was quickly forgetting about Phichit and Yurio staying in the same house.

At least he would have if Yurio hadn’t barged into the room. 

“Victor our train leaves in- WHAT THE FUCK!?” He screamed.  Victor jumped and instinctively pushed Yuuri off him.  Yuuri tried to keep his balance, but ended up falling off the bed and onto the floor.  He quickly grabbed his sweater from where it had been discarded last night and placed it strategically on his lap.  He noticed Victor rearranging the blankets in the same way and felt oddly smug about it.

“DISGUSTING! I did not come all the way from fucking Russia for this!” Yurio kept switching between Russian and English to scream at Victor, who was sheepishly trying to flatten his hair.  Makkachin glanced up at Yuuri from where she was laying, but quickly put her head down again and went back to sleep.  Phichit arrived at the door, bleary eyed, and clearly hungover. 

“Yurio, stop motherfucking yelling.  It’s 8:00 in the motherfucking morning, and I am motherfucking hungover.”  He glanced at the scene in the bedroom and nodded at Yuuri, who nodded back stunned.  He turned and started walking back to the living room, before taking three steps back and looking back into the room.  His eyes went from Victor to Yuuri and then to Yurio.

“Well fuck me,” Phichit said, “You guys actually did it?”

“Phichit, we didn’t… We weren’t…” Yuuri said at the same time Victor said, “Well we would have if Yurio hadn’t interrupted.”

\--------------------------------

When Victor and Yuuri walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, Phichit was sitting at the kitchen table with three mugs of coffee.

“So,” He said, “When did that happen?”

“This morning,” Yuuri said.

“Last night,” Victor corrected.

“No,” Yuuri turned to look at Victor, “We definitely kissed after midnight, which means it was this morning.”

“Yuuri, dear,” Victor put his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, “we kissed before midnight.  So it was yesterday.” 

“You’re wrong.” Yuuri said shaking his head.

“There’s only one way to settle this.” Victor said solemnly. 

Yuuri looked confused, “there is?”

“Of course,” Victor said, “Two anniversaries!”

Phichit laughed, “man a year from now is going to be so lit!” and Victor beamed at him.

Yuuri sighed and picked up his mug of coffee, “Where’s Yurio?”

“Outside.  He said he couldn’t be in the same house as quote, ‘this fucking disgusting filth’ ” Phichit smiled brightly.  Victor leaned over Yuuri to pick up his mug, his arm brushing against Yuuri’s shoulder.  It was comfortable and domestic, and Yuuri found that he didn’t mind Phichit seeing them like this.

“You guys are cute.  I’m happy for you,” Phichit smiled pulling out his phone, “Can I post this on Instagram?”

“No,” Yuuri said. 

“Kill joy.” Phichit said, putting away his phone.  Yurio threw open the back door before Yuuri could respond.

“FUCKING... You,” he said looking at Yuuri, “Are you aware that there’s a fucking bear in your back yard?” 

“What?” Yuuri said and looked out his kitchen window at a medium sized black bear sniffing around his pond, “Oh, that’s just Herman.” 

“Herman?” Phichi asked, “He’s out of hibernation early this year.”

“Yeah, probably something to do with global warming.” Yuuri said shrugging. 

“Just Herman?” Yurio said aggressively, “that’s a fucking bear.”

“He won’t bother you, if you don’t bother him.” Yuuri said, “He likes pancakes.” He added as an afterthought and Yurio just glared at him.

“I fucking hate Canadians,” he said turning to Victor, “We need to leave.  Train leaves in an hour, Victor.”

Victor’s smile dropped and he turned to look at Yuuri, “You’ll call me right?  I’ll pay your long distance, just call me?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said, reaching for Victor’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze.  He stood up and gather all of the mugs to put in the sink.  Victor came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s waist.  Yurio gagged in the background, but Phichit shushed him and told Yuuri and Victor to meet them out at the car.

Yuuri waited until he heard the front door close before turning in Victor’s arms and kissing him.  This kiss was needy, he knew that, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

“I’ll miss you,” Yuuri mumbled against his lips.

Victor kissed him again quickly, and broke away, “And I’ll miss you.” 

Yuuri hugged him, burying his face in Victor’s neck.  He didn’t let himself cry, but he inhaled Victor’s scent deeply, trying to burn it into his memory.

“The season will be over before you know it!” Victor said positively.  Yuuri laughed against his shoulder.

“And then you’ll come back, and this will be real,” he said quietly.

“It already is,” Victor replied softly and kissed Yuuri again.

They broke apart when Phichit honked the car horn. 

“Should he be driving?” Victor asked as he pulled on his coat.

“No.  No he shouldn’t.  I’m going to take over for him.” Yuuri said simply. 

Victor smiled, “Then do I get shotgun?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said straightening Victor’s coat collar, “Back to Russia?” he asked softly.

Victor nodded, “Back to Russia.”

\-------------------------------

Yuuri had kissed Victor goodbye in the car, but not in the train station in case anybody recognised him.  He was flying out from Pearson Airport, so he had a four-hour train ride ahead of him.

“I still don’t get how he got here on a Via Rail while completely wasted.” Yuuri told Phichit.

Phichit smiled, “Fate? True love? Destiny?” 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, but couldn’t supress his smile.  His phone was already pinging with texts from Victor who just couldn’t handle being bored.  He took his hand off the wheel to brush against his lips, where Victor had whispered something in Russian only minutes before.

“You’ve got it bad,” Phichit told him, and Yuuri shrugged.  There was no use denying it. 

“Do you really think the long distance thing will work?” He asked Phichit. 

“Considering it’s you and Victor, yeah,” He answered, “Yeah I think it will.”

Yuuri’s grin grew larger as he pulled onto the 400 series, “Yeah,” he said, “I think it will too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone requested a bear? Ask and you shall receive
> 
> Phichit was too hungover to be sarcastic in this chapter (translation: i'm too hungover to be sarcastic in this chapter)
> 
> Canadian translation:  
> the 400 series is hell (actually it's a series of highways that are known as the worst highways in the world :)))) they're fucking great)
> 
> Sorry this chapter is super short guys! I've got two midterms and a 10 page essay this week so I had no time to write, but my reading week is next week so I'll have more time to write!!!!
> 
> also my birthday is wednesday im 19 and im so ready to get as lit and Yuuri and Phichit were last chapter
> 
> as usual i love all you guys have a safe a fun week and come yell at on tumblr @impolitecanadian


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's actually translations in this one, weird

“So,” Phichit smiled at Yuuri, “Have you and Victor been having lots of phone sex?”

Yuuri choked on his coffee and glared at Phichit, “That,” he said, “Is none of your business.”

Phichit shrugged and looked down at the police report in front of him, “I bet that coffee isn’t the only thing you wish you were choking on,” he mumbled.

“Do you want to get slapped?” Yuuri asked, “Because saying things like that is how you get slapped.” 

Phichit hummed and stared intently at Yuuri’s phone.

“No, okay?” Yuuri sighed, “We’ve both been busy since he got back to Russia.  But we text a lot.”

“What kind of things?” Phichit asked.

“We just give each other updates on our days, honestly.  There’s an eight-hour difference from here so sometimes we’re not awake for each other’s texts.  Time zones fucking suck.” Yuuri said, “So we haven’t really had a chance to facetime or call.”

Phichit’s brow furrowed, “What time is it in Russia right now?”

Yuuri looked at the clock, “It’s nine am, so uhm….” He started counting on his fingers, “It’s around five pm there.”

“You should call him,” Phichit said, “It’s been like two weeks since you’ve talked to him, and I know you miss him.”

Yuuri’s face reddened slightly, “Of course I do, but I can’t just call him.  He’s probably busy.”

“He skates for a living, Yuuri.” Phichit leaned back in his chair, “for a _living_.”

Yuuri shook his head, “He’s a professional athlete.  He trains a lot.  Like all day, every day.”

“That sounds awful,” Phichit said, “you’re saying that he wouldn’t take like half an hour out of his practice schedule to talk to you?”

“Of course he would.”

Phichit threw up his hands, annoyed, “Then why don't you call him?”

“We’re at work,” Yuuri said, “it would be irresponsible.”

Phichit just stared at him.  “Yeah okay,” Yuuri said, “I can’t use that excuse because we never do our fucking jobs anyways.”

“You’re scared to call him,” Phichit said, “aren’t you?”

“I am not,” Yuuri said indignantly.

“You are.” He pushed, “Why?”

Yuuri bit his bottom lip, “I guess I’m just worried that now he’s back in Russia he’ll realize he doesn’t actually want to come back.”

“To Canada, or to you?” Phichit asked.

“Both, I guess.”  Yuuri said quietly.

“Yuuri.” Phichit closed the open file in front of him, and leaned forward on his desk, “You know that thing that old married couples say?  They always say that the first time they saw the other they just _knew_ that they were going to marry them.  When I ask you this don’t laugh,” Phichit paused, “I know it hasn’t been long, but could you see yourself marrying Victor?”

Yuuri blinked.  He hadn’t honestly thought about it. 

“Well?” Phichit asked again.

“Maybe, someday, yeah,” Yuuri responded, “Honestly, yes, I can.”

Phichit nodded, satisfied with the answer. “Let me tell you what my drunk-ass saw that night we hung out in your living room. That boy is head-over-heels for you, and I would put my life’s savings on him coming back to Canada simply because you’re here.”

Yuuri blushed deeply, “Okay.  Hand me my phone.  I’m going to text Victor.”

“Text?” Phichit clicked his tongue, “I just gave you like the most supportive speech of the century, and you’re not even going to call him?”

Yuuri put his hand up to make Phichit stop talking, “I’m texting him to see if he’s busy, find some chill.”

“Yuuri, I have never had, nor will I ever have any chill.”

 

**Sent @ 9:07am**

Hey, are you busy right now?

 

**Vitya <3 @ 9:07am**

im never to busy for u ;)

 

**Sent @ 9:07am**

I’m serious Victor.

 

**Vitya <3 @ 9:07am**

im takin a break from practice rn is everything ok????

 

**Sent @ 9:07am**

Yes! Everything is fine! I just wondered if maybe you… ugh, it’s stupid.

 

**Vitya <3 @ 9:08am**

what is it yuuri?

 

**Sent @9:08am**

I just wondered if you wanted to call or facetime?

 

**Sent @9:08am**

It’s just i miss you…

 

**Sent @9:08am**

im sorry youre probably busy thats okay

 

Yuuri was typing another message, telling Victor not to worry about calling him when his phone rang, and Phichit made a grand gesture of ‘look how stupid you are’ from his desk at Yuuri, who shrugged and answered the phone.

\----------------------

Victor’s heart felt like it lightened by a hundred pounds when Yuuri’s face popped up on his phone screen.  He looked tired, which made sense because Yuuri was not a morning person.  He was wearing his contacts, like he frequently did when he was working to reduce the risk of an injury to his face or losing his glasses in a conflict (not that he got in any of those), and he looked incredible.  Victor himself was probably a sweaty mess, but he couldn’t care less.

Yuuri’s face immediately brightened when Victor’s came into focus.

“How’s Russia!” Yuuri nearly shouted. 

Victor laughed, “Russia is fine, but it would be better if you were here.”

A blush spread across Yuuri’s cheeks, “Really? Because I was thinking the same about Canada.”

“Jesus, Yuuri! That’s cheesy even for you!” Yuuri glared off screen, “Tell Victor I say hi,” Phichit continued, obviously not caring about Yuuri’s opinion on the matter.

“Victor can hear you.  Hi Phichit,” Victor said, not looking away from Yuuri’s face.  Yuuri rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged on the corner of his mouth.

“Are you still at the rink?” Yuuri asked.

“Yeah, I’m actually still on the ice-”

“VITYA! If you’re using my time to talk to that Canadian I’m going to pawn all your gold medals and buy myself a cemetery plot.  To bury your fucking body in,” Yakov yelled at Victor in Russian from the other side of the rink.

“Relax, Yakov,” Victor responded in Russian, “I’m only taking five minutes.  One for each of those medals you’re going to pawn.”

Yuuri licked his lips on the phone screen, “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Victor said cheerily, switching back to English, “Yakov just threatened to kill me, that’s all.”

“Oh, well that’s perfectly normal then?” Yuuri asked.

“Please,” Yurio said sliding to a stop beside Victor, “If Yakov actually followed through on those threats Victor would have been dead before he’d even won his first medal.”

Victor smiled, “See! Nothing to worry about.”

“You know Yuuri can arrest him right?” Phichit said moving behind Yuuri, “That’s like a crime or something.”

“No,” Yuuri turned to look at Phichit, “There needs to be like real intent.  Plus, I don’t think I can arrest someone over facetime.”

“Worth a shot.” Victor shrugged.  Yurio scoffed and skated away before Yakov started to yell at him too.

Phichit took that as a cue for him to leave too, and quickly left the frame.

“Yuuri,” Victor began as he stepped off the ice, “Why did you call me?”

Yuuri looked down at his lap, “I miss you.”

Victor felt his chest tighten, “Hey,” he said softly, “look at me.”

Yuuri looked up, and Victor smiled slightly, “I miss you too.  I can’t wait to come back to Canada.”

“You’re really going to come back?” Yuuri asked.

“Of course,” Victor said surprised, “why would I lie about that?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said, “I’m just glad you’re coming back.”

“VICTOR,” Yakov shouted.

Victor felt himself wince and turned to give apologetic look to Yuuri, “He might actually kill me.  I have to go, I’m sorry.  We’ll do this again? Soon?”

Yuuri grinned, “Of course.  Goodbye Vitya, practice hard so you can win me a gold medal,” he paused, his eyes widening “Not that you need to! You have enough gold medals by my standards! By anyone’s standards really!  It doesn’t even need to be for me! Win for yourself-”

“Yuuri,” Victor struggled to hold back a laugh, “It’s okay.  I really have to go.  I’ll call you later.  I promise.”

“I should probably do my job too.  Bye, Victor.” Yuuri waved with the hand that wasn’t holding his phone, and oh my god isn’t he adorable, thought Victor.  When Yuuri hung up, Victor couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t disappointed, but he knew that he’d broken through some barrier of Yuuri’s and it wouldn’t be long before he called again.

\-------------------------

Yuuri wouldn’t say Victor was clingy, but he was kind of clingy.  Once Yuuri gave him the all clear, Victor called him every day around the same time, when noon in Canada, which was Yuuri’s lunch break, and around 8pm in Russia, which meant Victor was home, not doing anything.  They had spent a month with this arrangement, telling each other little things about their days, or stories about them before they knew each other.  Victor even got the full story about Yuuri’s famous (or infamous) keg stand – one which he will never repeat again.  Even though they technically saw each other every day, Yuuri found he missed Victor more with each call.  He missed the way he kissed him, always letting Yuuri set the pace, and meeting him where he was.  He missed the way Victor’s eyes always found his, no matter the situation.  But mostly, he just missed his presence.  The easy way Victor had slotted himself into Yuuri’s life made him acutely aware of how sorely he was missing the space that Victor had filled. 

Yuuri pushed himself out of bed when he heard his phone ring.  He put on his glasses, and looked at the time.  Who the fuck was calling him at six in the fucking morning on a Saturday.  When Yuuri remember that technically he was on call he grabbed his phone and answered quickly.

“You’ve reached Ontario Provincial Police Officer Katsuki. Is there an emergency?” Yuuri said, his voice was authoritative, like a police officer’s should be.

“Oh my god,” Victor’s voice came through, “Can you answer the phone like that every time?”

“Victor?” Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief, “Why are you calling me so early?”

“I have an amazing idea, and you’re going to want to kiss me for it,” He said excitedly.

“Victor.” Yuuri rolled his neck, feeling it crack, “You don’t have to come up with an elaborate scheme to make me want to kiss you.”

“Good to know,” Victor said thoughtfully, “But this is actually one of my better ideas.  So listen carefully.”

Yuuri exhaled deeply, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “I’m listening.”

“So my last qualifier for the Grand Prix Final is the NHK Trophy.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said confused.

“Yuuri, that’s in Japan.”

“Oh.” Yuuri’s chest tightened.  He hadn’t been home in nearly ten years.  It almost wasn’t fair that Victor would be in Japan before he would. Yuuri chewed on the inside of his cheek, “Why are you telling me this?”

Victor’s voice was far too cheery for six in the morning, “Because I’ve booked you a plane ticket.”

Suddenly Yuuri was wide awake, “You did what?”

“I booked you a plane ticket to Japan.  You’ll meet me in Sapporo before the competition, and after the NHK Trophy is done, we can go to Hasetsu and visit your parents.  I mean, if you’re okay with me tagging along?”

Yuuri didn’t have words to express what this meant to him.  That Victor had actually listen to him ramble about his family, and how much he missed them.  And not only that, but he had made plans so that Yuuri could visit them.

“Victor,” he choked out though tears, his voice scratchy.

“I already cleared it with Phichit, he said they he could keep the station in order for the week and a half that you’d be gone.  I think he actually said ‘It’s totally cool, it’s not like Yuuri has a real job anyways’, so it’s all ready to go.  You just have to pack your bags.”

“Victor,” Yuuri said again, “Do you know what this means to me?”

“I think I have an idea,” Victor said softly, “so, will you come to Japan with me? Yes, or no?”

“Obviously yes, you fucking romantic idiot!” Yuuri was still crying, his tears from pure joy.

He heard Victor chuckle on the other line, “Fucking romantic idiot.  If I die first, put that on my tombstone.  It sums me up pretty well.”

Yuuri gave a wet laugh, “I’m going home,” he said.  Part of him wondered if when he said home he meant Japan or Victor, but he didn’t have the energy to dwell on it.

“Yeah, malysh, you’re going home.”

Yuuri knew he was smiling like an fool in love, but that was exactly what he was, “I can’t wait to see you,” he whispered.

“I can’t wait to see you either- FUCK!” Victor’s voice lowered, “Yakov found the closet I’m hiding in.  I never thought I’d be back in one in my life, but I do strange things for you Officer Katsuki.”

Yuuri honest-to-god giggled, “I hope Yakov doesn’t kill you.” 

“No promises.” Yuuri could hear in the background and loud “VITYA” and the sound of a door being yanked open.

“Oh, hello Yakov,” Victor said calmly, “Were you looking for me?”

Yuuri heard a string of Russian that sounded far from pleased, but he didn’t comment on it.  When he heard Victor’s breathing again, he knew that Yakov had relented and walked away, probably muttering about Victor being an ungrateful hard-headed ass (a common endearment from Yakov that Victor had shared with Yuuri).

Yuuri was fighting to hold back his laughter when Victor calmly said, “I think I probably have to go.”

“God, Vitya,” Yuuri sighed trying to stop himself from laughing, “I love you.”  He froze.  Fuck.

“Wait!  I meant…” Yuuri paused, no use lying about it. “No, actually, Victor, I meant it.  I love you.”

He heard Victor’s breath hitch on the other line.

“Oh, Yuuri,” he said it so softly Yuuri could envision the slight smile on his face and could almost feel Victor’s fingers brushing his cheek, “I love you, too. In fact, I’m so in love with you that half the time I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“It’s not a fucking competition, Victor,” Yuuri said, making Victor laugh.

“Everything is a competition, lyubov moya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> “malysh” - Baby  
> “lyubov moya” – My love
> 
> jesus sorry this chapter is so late i had so much fuckin university to do and i literally wrote this during my shift at work last night so i might get fired but its cool bc i hate my job anyways
> 
> also sorry this chapter is short it was supposed to be attached to last weeks i just kind of split it in half because of a lack of time to write
> 
> as usual i love you guys have a great week and come yell at me on tumblr @impolitecanadian


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol omg i dont even know this chapter is so bad have fun

When Yuuri’s flight landed in Japan he felt a pure sense of bliss wash over him.  It felt natural to be back in his home country and to hear and see things written in his native tongue.  He loved Canada, but there was something to be said about being _home_.  It also helped that Canada was fucking freezing at the time that he left, while Japan was a pleasant temperature (by his standards when he had actually lived here, it was cold, but he’d been hardened by Canadian snowstorms).  He wandered around the airport, checking the arrival times board.  He knew that Victor had arrived a few days earlier to get in some last minute practice, but it was comforting to read things in Japanese.

“Hey! Canadouche!” Yuuri turned to face an angry looking Yurio.

He smiled brightly, “Yurio! It’s good to see you! How have you been?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he said dryly, “I love coming to airports in the middle of nowhere just to pick up Victor’s arm candy.”

“You really think I’m arm candy?” Yuuri said mockingly, “That’s like the nicest thing you’ve said to me-”

“That him?” A gruff voice interrupted.  Yuuri took in the sight of whom he could only assume was Yakov.  He was shorter than he thought he’d be.  And balder.  But Yuuri barely spent any time looking him over before his eyes were drawn to the silver hair beside him.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Yurio said, his face looking slightly disgusted as Victor stepped towards Yuuri.

“Vitya,” Yakov said sternly, “Public image, remember?”

“Oh, you’re so right, Yakov.  Look over there, there’s even paparazzi!” Victor said pointing in the opposite direction and grabbed Yuuri’s hand.  It was the first time they’d touched since Victor had left Canada.  He leaned in and whispered, “Run!” 

They took off through the airport, Yuuri’s backpack banging against his back.  He wondered why Yakov wasn’t chasing them, before understanding that the whole point was to not cause a scene.  Unfortunately, causing a scene was Victor’s greatest talent.  They kept running until Victor found a hallway with a series of doors.  Yuuri tugged him towards a service closest and jiggled the door handle, pleased to find it unlocked.  He yanked Victor in with him and closed the door quickly.  He barely had time to turn before Victor had him pressed up against it, his body flush with his.

“I missed you,” Victor said against his neck, and Yuuri bit his bottom lip. 

“Shut up,” he said, “And just kiss me already.”  Victor laughed but happily complied, pressing their lips together without hesitation.  It was messy and a little bit needy, and Yuuri smiled into the kiss, making it more teeth than anything else.  He relaxed quickly and melted into Victor, wrapping his arms around his neck, and pulling him down into him.  Victor’s hands found his face and slid around to the base of his neck, twining into his hair.  When Yuuri broke the kiss they were both panting and just kept their arms wrapped around each other for a second. Yuuri laughed softly against Victor’s cheek. 

“You’re making me nervous,” Victor said, still out of breath, “Why are you laughing? Am I that bad?”

Yuuri smiled and pushed his face down into the crook of Victor’s neck, “No.  I’m laughing because I’m just happy.  I missed you.  And I also just realized we’re in a closet, literally.”

Victor laughed and reached up to brush Yuuri’s hair back off his face, “Maybe we should come out of the closet, then?” 

“Maybe.  I do need to go to baggage claim.” He said pulling away from Victor.  Victor pulled him in for another slow kiss.  Yuuri knew his lips were already started to swell and Yakov would be under no illusions as to why Victor and Yuuri ran away.  It had been fun while it lasted, but it was time for them step back into the busy airport.  Yuuri opened the door first and walked down the hall to wait for Victor.  Yakov hadn’t been completely wrong when he reminded Victor to think about his public image.  While Victor had certainly hinted at his sexuality in interviews, he hadn’t come right out and said ‘hey world I’m gay!’ something Russia had probably stopped him from doing.  When he rejoined Yuuri, he stood a safe distance away from him.  He had fixed his hair and didn’t look anywhere close to the level of dishevelment Yuuri felt.

Yakov eyed them disapprovingly, but didn’t say anything as he pointed towards the baggage claim line.

“Oh fuck,” Yurio said softly, “Not this asshole.”

“Victor!” A voice called from the baggage claim area, “Did you just get here!”

Yuuri looked at Victor confused.  Victor’s shoulders had tensed, but he forced a smile onto his face.

“JJ!” He said.  Yuuri eyed the burnet carefully, he looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place him. 

“Already making friends with the natives, eh Victor?” He said nudging Victor playfully.  Victor stared distastefully at JJ’s elbow and cleared his throat.

“Actually, I don’t live in Japan,” Yuuri said, still trying to remember where he’d seen JJ before.

“Me neither!” JJ said, laughing, “Get it? Because I’m from Canada.” 

“We fucking know,” Yakov said, eyeing him with a deep distrust.  Yuuri vaguely remembered Victor speaking on Yakov’s dislike of Canadians, and if JJ was the only Canadian Yakov knew, he was beginning to understand why.

“Where abouts?” Yuuri asked.

“I was born in Quebec, but I moved to Ontario when I was thirteen,” he said.

“Oh!” Yuuri suddenly placed his face, “Jean Jacques, right?” 

“Yes, you’re a fan?” He asked. 

“No, I was the constable who gave all of those safety talks at your high school.”

“Officer Katsuki?” JJ’s eyes widened.  The look of genuine shock on his face forced Victor to cover his mouth to avoid laughing.

“Jean here came to ask me about leaving the country with outstanding tickets.” Yuuri smirked at JJ’s reddening face, “By the way, did you ever get that underage drinking charge taken care of?”

JJ cleared his throat, “Yeah, uh, I did, thanks for checking, Officer.  Uhm I have to go.  Skating competition and all, you know?” He went to back up and tripped over his own suitcase.  He quickly left after that and Yakov looked at Yuuri appraisingly.

“I guess you’re not the worst Canadian I’ve met,” he said.

Yuuri smiled, “JJ’s Canadian.”

“JJ’s a tool,” Yurio piped up in the background.

“He’s from Quebec, that tends to happen.” Yuuri said by way of explanation, that did not clear up anything for the three Russians standing in front of him.  Victor shrugged and took Yuuri’s bag from him, turning towards the exit.

\------------------------------------------

It took approximately two hours for the story of Victor being spotted rather closely with (what the press assumed to be) a Japanese love affair to break on the internet.  Yuuri and Victor thought it was relatively funny, but Yakov reminded them that they needed to be discreet as they entered the same hotel room together.  For sake of appearances, Yuuri had his own room, but nobody was under the illusion that he was actually going to use it, a fact that was adding approximately five years to Yakov’s life.  Yuuri was sitting on the bed with his phone reading the article outloud to Victor.

“Listen to this Vitya,” he said, “and I quote ‘Perhaps Victor is getting too closely acquainted with the local culture of Japan’, how could they just assume I’m from Japan.  Just because they saw a Japanese man in Japan does not mean I live here. It’s just kind of racist,” he paused, “probably.  To be honest, I’m not really sure.” 

Victor laughed, “You are from Japan, lyubov moya.” He sat down next to Yuuri on the bed and started nuzzling his neck.

“I know that, but _they_ don’t,” He said batting Victor away.  Victor sighed and pulled Yuuri’s phone out of his hand.

“At least the picture is cute,” he said, and tossed it over his shoulder before pressing Yuuri down into the mattress and kissing him senseless.

\------------------------------------

Yuuri was the first to admit that he knew fuck-all about skating.  Yakov grunted when he told him that he was decent in a pair of hockey skates, which Yuuri took for not approval.  Victor had told him that Yakov could come across as kind of a douche, so Yuuri wasn’t surprised.  Meeting the rest of the Russian skating team was fun though.  Mila was fun, while Georgi was interesting to say the least.  Victor later filled him in on his recent heartbreak, but still, Yuuri thought the make-up was a bit much.

Victor skated beautifully of course, and took the highest score for the short program, meaning that he’d be skating last today.  New articles had popped up overnight about the mysterious new man at Victor’s side, but most of them were writing Yuuri off as just a friend, since as far as anyone knew Victor was straight.  It made him a little insecure, wondering just how many women Victor had been seen with before him that he could so easily be written off, but he knew that Victor wouldn’t have kissed him if he wasn’t attracted to him, and wouldn’t be willing to meet his parents (or have flown him to Japan in first class for that matter) if he thought of Yuuri as just a fling.

By the time Victor was set to skate his free skate, the press was pissing Yuuri off.  A lot.  So just before Victor went onto the ice, he grabbed his arm. 

“Victor,” He said quietly, “If you win, I’m going to do something crazy.”

“How crazy are we talking? Keg-stand level?”

“Kiss you in front twenty-thousand people crazy.”

“Okay,” Victor said, a smile creeping onto his face, “I accept the challenge.  Don’t you dare take your eyes off of me.”

Yuuri bit his bottom lip, whispering, “As if I could, Vitya,” and let go of his arm.

Victor made eye contact with Yuuri as he hit his starting pose, and honest-to-god, winked at him.  His skating was mesmerizing, and he took every opportunity to make eye contact with Yuuri.  _(And because the author of the fic doesn’t know shit about figure skating, and it’s 1 in the fucking morning. the routine is now over.)_

When he stepped off the ice he turned towards Yuuri and quirked his eyebrow, “Are you going to do something crazy?”

Yuuri rolled his eyes as he watched Victor sit down in the kiss and cry with Yakov. “You haven’t won yet,” he said before the announcer’s voice drowned him out and announced Victor’s score.

“Haven’t I?” Victor asked, with a smug look on his face.  Yuuri shrugged and leaned into the view of the camera and kissed Victor.  Yakov’s jaw dropped and the stadium rioted, but Yuuri was too wrapped up in Victor to notice.  By all accounts, it was a fairly chaste kiss, but it was enough.  To be fair, it was motivated a little bit out of spite and when it clicked to Yuuri that he had just outed Victor to the press his eyes widened, and a blush creeped across his cheeks.

 “Mr. Nikiforov!” The reporters starting yelling simultaneously.  One even dared, “Are you trying to imply that you are in a romantic relationship?”

Victor just smiled and pulled Yuuri into another kiss before turning on the press and saying, “What do you think?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i fucking hate my job and im quitting
> 
> sorry for the late update guys i've been working 12-hour overnights all reading week and im exhausted (plus i've been working more on my actual novels bc to be a published author i actually need to write) which is why i split a chapter in half again so you guys can have a shitty rushed update yay :))))))
> 
> anyways have a good week and stuff and im on tumblr


	11. Chapter 11

Victor and Yuuri were able to evade the press as they left their hotel in Sapporo.  Yuuri made Victor wear a hat and sunglasses (which he took every opportunity to bitch about) while Yuuri took off his own glasses and wore a scarf over the bottom of his face.  The train ride to Hasetsu was long, and Yuuri let himself nod off on the trip.  He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep slummed against Victor’s shoulder, until Victor woke him up gently with a press of his lips to Yuuri’s temple.

“I think we’re here,” he said softly, “We also might have missed the stop.  I don’t speak Japanese and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

Yuuri sat up and rubbed his eyes quickly looking out the window of the train.  “No,” he said a smile growing on his face, “this is it.  Victor, we’re home.”  He jumped up quickly and grabbed Victor’s hand to pull him off the train. 

While Victor had sent his competition stuff back to Russia with Yakov (with the exception of his skates), he was still not a light packer, and complained to Yuuri as he hauled his suitcase off the train.

“I told you that I wouldn’t carry it for you.  If you didn’t want sore arms, you should have packed lighter,” Yuuri told him without an ounce of sympathy.

“But I’m dying, Yuuri,” he whined back.

“I’ll give a eulogy at your funeral,” he told him and started walking away from the platform.

“No you won’t,” Victor said, jogging to catch up to Yuuri, “We’re going to die at the same time.  It’ll be very romantic.  Like Romeo and Juliet.”

Yuuri laughed, “You do know that six people died in that play, right?”

“Really?” He shrugged and linked his arm with Yuuri’s, pulling him closer to his side.

Yuuri allowed himself to be tugged towards him, “God, read a book Victor.”

“Fine, then it’ll be like the Notebook.  I’ve at least watched that.” Victor pushed his elbow into Yuuri’s ribs in a playful nudge.

“Jesus,” Yuuri said, “I’d almost forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?” Victor asked.

“Just how fucking white you are.”  Yuuri broke away from Victor, and left him standing open mouthed a few steps back.

“Okay, first of all, rude.”  Victor started walking again to catch up with Yuuri, “And second of all, rude.  And third of all-”

“Did I miss the wedding?” Minako asked in Japanese.

Yuuri froze, “Wed-wedding?”

“Since you two are bickering like a married couple, I figured you must have eloped on the train or something,” She said hugging Yuuri’s still body, “It’s good to see you Yuuri!  It’s been far too long since you’ve been home.”

“We’re not… We’re not married yet.  I mean, fuck, just! He’s not my husband.” Yuuri stammered.

Victor watched the interaction with fascination, not understanding any of it. He stepped forward and took Yuuri’s hand, snapping him out of him brief panic.  “Victor Nikiforov,” he said offering his other hand to Minako, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Minako Okukawa,” She said shaking his hand, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Not from Yuuri, I hope,” Victor said, an easy smile on his face.  Yuuri swatted at his arm and looked back at Minako.

“Sorry, Minako, I kind of froze for a second,” he explained, “It’s great to be home.  How have you been?”

“I wonderful, Yuuri.  The dance studio is doing well, you should stop by sometime, just like the old days!” She told him cheerfully.

“You danced, Yuuri?” Victor asked.

“I tried to talk him into become a ballet dancer!” Minako said, “He’s quick with his feet, and quite graceful.”

“Ballet?  Really, Yuuri, how come you’ve never mentioned this.”

Yuuri’s face was a violent shade of red when he looked back at Victor, “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Of course it does!” Victor said, “Keg-stands, ballet, what else don’t I know about you?  Now I really can’t wait to get you into a pair of figure skates!”

Yuuri sighed, “Can we just go home please?”

Minako smiled and took Yuuri’s suitcase.  When she offered to take Victor’s, Yuuri intervened telling her that Victor needed to learn to pack lighter.  Victor had responded that Yuuri would be thanking him when he was wearing Victor’s clothes.  The whole time they bickered pettily, Minko watched with a knowing look on her face. 

She leaned closer to Yuuri and said in Japanese, “You two remind me of your parents at your age.”

A blush spread across Yuuri’s cheeks, but he smiled warmly at her, “if we end up half as happy as my parents we’d be more than lucky,” he said.

“You will,” she said, “I have no doubt in my mind that you will.”

By the time they reached the onsen it was already getting dark and Yuuri was exhausted despite his nap on the train.  Yuuri’s parents were waiting at the door when they arrived and Yuuri immediately fell into his mom’s arms.  It really had been far too long since he’d been home.  Without thinking, he fell into a conversation in rapid-fire Japanese with them, telling them about Canada, and his job and asking about Japan.  He realized they’d been talking for a while without introducing Victor, when his mom finally looked away from Yuuri’s face.

“He’s quite handsome, isn’t he?” She said, keeping the conversation in Japanese.

“He is,” Yuuri agreed.  He paused awkwardly, “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“Told me what?” She asked confused.

“That I’m gay,” Yuuri said looking down at the ground.  He wasn’t going to apologize about who he was, but he did feel guilty that he’d hidden it from his parents for so long.

“Oh honey,” Hiroko said softly, “I already knew.”

Yuuri’s head snapped up, “What?”

“Do you forget what your room looks like?  How could I not know?” She said cheerfully, turning her attention to Victor and introducing herself in English.  Victor was taking the conversation in stride, while Yuuri struggled to remember what his room looked like.  Suddenly it hit him.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Yuuri yelled, and took off towards his bedroom.  He had to get their before Victor saw what his room was covered in.  He slammed the door open and looked around.  They were all still there.  Covering every inch of his room were posters of American boybands.  Okay mom, Yuuri thought as he took in the room with horror, fair enough this is pretty gay.  He heard laughing behind him and Yuuri turned to face Victor.

“Is this why you screamed took off running? Because your room is covered in ‘N Sync and the Backstreet Boys?” Victor’s hand was on the door frame supporting his weight as he doubled over in laugher.

“Look, these aren’t mine? I don't know her!” Yuuri said loudly.

“Calm down, Mariah Carey,” Victor said still laughing, “It’s cute.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Yuuri corrected.

“No, it’s cute. Almost as cute as you.” Victor said. Now leaning casually against Yuuri’s door frame.  Yuuri smiled and reached forward for his shirt, pulling him into the room and kicking the door closed behind him.

\------------------------------

It was nearly one in the morning when Yuuri finally tugged Victor along with him to the onsen.  His mother had made katsudon for dinner, which Yuuri had sheepishly admitted to Victor that it was his favourite, but he didn’t eat it often because of his tendency to gain weight.  Victor had laughed and told Yuuri that’d he’d still love him even if he ate katsudon every day.  Hiroko had cleared the plates and told Yuuri his boyfriend was sweet.  It was the word boyfriend that Yuuri got hung up on.  He’d been quiet for the past few hours while Victor enthusiastically got to know his family.  When the rest of them had gone off to bed, he took Victor’s hand in his and pulled him to his feet.

“Come with me,” he said, “I want to show you the onsen.”

Victor nodded sleepily, but followed him outside towards the baths.  Yuuri stripped first with his back towards Victor and slipped into the water without looking at him.  He felt exposed, and vulnerable, but not uncomfortable.  When he turned back towards Victor, he was standing at the edge of the water, in full-fledged nudity.  Yuuri’s eyes widened and he yelped, ducking his face down into the hot water.  He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Victor said wearing a smirk that suggested, he was anything but, “I should have warned you.”

“It’s fine.” Yuuri put his hand on top of Victor’s.  “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Victor smiled and leaned down to kiss Yuuri.  The kiss was brief, and Yuuri pushed him back before it had the chance to gain any heat.  Victor groaned, but did as he asked.

“Victor, we need to talk,” Yuuri said seriously.

“Uh oh,” Victor said raising his eyebrows, “Am I in trouble?”

“No!” Yuuri said quickly.  They were kneeling in the water now, and Yuuri reached up and wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck, so that they faced each other.  Victor placed his hands on Yuuri’s waist and gave him a confused look.

“Then what is it?” he asked.

Yuuri inhaled deeply, “Are you my boyfriend?” he asked quickly.

“Yuuri, I’ve literally kissed you on live TV.”

“Yeah, but –”

“How could you not think I was your boyfriend? I told you I love you.” 

“I don’t know Victor!” Yuuri said a little frustrated, “I just need to know what you want to call this.  You need to tell me what this is.”

“Yuuri, you can call this whatever you need to call it to be comfortable,” Victor told him, “I’m less interested in what this is, than in what this could be.” 

Yuuri paused, “What this could be?”

“You’re not going to get rid of me easily, lyubov moya.” Victor put his hands on the side of Yuuri’s face, making him look at him, “I’m here for the long haul. I promise.” 

“You’ll stay with me?” Yuuri asked quietly.

“I’ll stay with you,” Victor told him and leaned in to kiss his forhead, “and I’ll tell you that I’m staying every single day if that’s what you need to hear,” he murmured against Yuuri’s skin.

Yuuri pulled away to look up at Victor, “I love you,” he said.

Victor smiled lightly, “I should hope so, these tickets to Japan cost a fortune-” 

Yuuri cut him off with his lips, and Victor easily complied, pressing their bodies together.  It was the first time Yuuri had been in contact with all of Victor’s skin and the feeling was euphoric, it made Yuuri realize that onsen make out sessions might just be his favourite.

“Victor,” Yuuri said, pulling away, “Victor wait.”

“What?” Victor asked, a little out of breath.

Yuuri looked pointedly down, and then back up, “We can’t have sex in the onsen.”

Victor laughed, “Why not?” 

“Because we have customers, Victor.  Like paying customers." 

Victor lowered his voice, “They don’t have to find out.”

Yuuri considered this for a brief moment and then looked back at Victor’s face.  “True,” he said, "But my mom will know and I'm not risking it."

Victor eyed him carefully, "Fine," He said but leaned in to kiss Yuuri once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally added a gay crisis™ just so i could put in that joke about boybands
> 
> so i forgot february only has 28 days and i have an essay due on the 3rd i haven't started so anyways here's a new chapter
> 
> i hope this one is better than the last one! the next update will probably be next weekend at some point so have a good week everyone i love you!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol a quick little thing i needed to throw in between chapters so i can do a time hop!!!

“Did you have sex in the onsen?” Mari asked, leaning against Yuuri’s door, with a cigarette between her fingers. 

“God! No! No!” Yuuri jumped to his feet to defend himself, “Why would you think that?”

“Because you snuck there with Victor at like one in the morning,” she said casually.

Yuuri glared at her, “We did not have sex in the onsen.”

“What were you doing then? Keg-stands?” Hiroko said, casually walking by, “That's a waste, sex in the onsen is lots of fun, you should try it.” 

Yuuri and Mari looked at each other with wide eyes and silently agreed to never mention it again.  Like ever again. 

“Oh, hello Mari,” Victor said as he gently pushed past her into Yuuri’s room, “How are you?”

“I’m leaving,” she said, quirking an eyebrow at Yuuri.  Yuuri gave her an ‘I’m going to murder you and they won’t find the body’ look, but quickly turned his attention back to Victor. 

“Hey,” he said softly, “did you have a good run?”

“Yeah, I did.” Victor flopped facedown onto Yuuri’s bed, “hey remember when we made out in the onsen?” 

Yuuri looked back at him, “Victor, that was yesterday.”

Victor sighed, “One of my fondest memories.” 

Yuuri stared at him and shook his head.  Victor rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow. 

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” Victor said calmly.  Yuuri’s shoulders tensed but he kept his face relaxed.  Or at least he thought he did, but Victor was learning to read him. 

“It’s nothing bad!” He said, quickly getting up and walking towards Yuuri.  He reached out and took Yuuri’s hand in his.

“I know, Vitya, just,” Yuuri paused trying to come up with the right words.  Victor kissed his hand gently, and pulled him towards the bed so they could both sit down.

“You get nervous,” Victor finished for him, “Believe me, Yuuri, I don't intend on ever having a ‘we need to talk’ that ends with you crying.  Well, no, that’s not exactly right because you cry easily.” 

“Victor.” 

“Right, back on track,” he looked up at Yuuri and smiled softly, “I love you.”

Yuuri laughed, “Is that what you needed to talk to me about?”

“No,” Victor smiled sheepishly, “I wanted to ask you if you’ll come to Barcelona to watch the Grand Prix Final?  It’s in two weeks.” 

Yuuri looked down at his lap, “I want to but I have to work, Vitya.”

Victor put his finger under Yuuri’s chin, forcing him to look up at him, “Now, we both know that’s not true.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to argue, but closed it quickly and nodded, “Okay, you’ve got me there.” 

Victor laughed, “So you’ll come to Barcelona?” 

“I don't know,” Yuuri sighed.

Victor’s face sobered, “Why are you so hesitant? You were like this when I bought the tickets to Japan too.”

Yuuri rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, “I guess I just feel weird about you spending all of this money on me.” 

“Do you know how much money I have, Yuuri?” Victor asked.

“No…” 

“A lot, Yuuri,” Victor said, “I have a lot.  Like seven figures.”

“Jesus,” Yuuri breathed.  He couldn’t picture that amount of money even if he tried, “And all you do is twirl on some fake skates.”

“Okay, rude,” Victor said, but the smile had returned to his face, “So is it okay with you if I spoil my boyfriend to a first class flight because I want him at my competition?  It’s for purely selfish reasons, I assure you.”

“I mean as long as it’s selfish, that’s fine,” Yuuri laughed. 

Victor inched his face closer to Yuuri’s, “Then I think you’ll find me to be a very selfish man, indeed.” 

Yuuri laughed and pushed him away by covering Victor’s face with his hand, “Now, we both know that’s not true,” he teased. 

“Barcelona?” Victor asked again, through Yuuri’s hand.

Yuuri nodded, “Barcelona.”  Yuuri took his hand off his face, and finally let an-over-excited Victor kiss him senseless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a super quick little conversation that should have been on the end of last weeks chapter but given that i'm a dumbass i forgot it so here it is, there should be another chapter tonight! probably around 11-midnight EST!
> 
> EDIT: this update is exactly 666 words so do with that what you will


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation at the end!

Yuuri quickly decided that Barcelona was fucking gorgeous.  The city was bright and full of colours and music poured from nearly every street, even in the middle of winter.  Victor and Yuuri were walking hand-in-hand down a rather tourist-y part of Barcelona.  They weren’t trying to be recognised, but they weren’t actively avoiding it either.  They’d mostly managed to stay away from any reporters since Yuuri had kissed Victor at the NHK Trophy, though they had been frequently mentioned in the news.  Yurio had even provided a supportive comment saying “I don’t give a fuck what they do as long I’m far away from it” when the press wouldn’t leave him alone.  It had only been a week since Victor and Yuuri had left Japan and nobody had revealed much to the press about Yuuri besides his first name, so arriving back in Canada, sans Victor especially, didn’t draw too much attention.

Victor smiled and pressed his shoulder against Yuuri’s, “What are you thinking about?”

Yuuri blushed, “Us, mainly,” he confessed.

“Us is a good word,” Victor said playfully, “The English language in general is fucked, but ‘us’ is a good word.”

Yuuri was about to respond when a voice came from behind them, “Victor Nikiforov!”

They both turned in sync to face a baby-faced woman with dark red hair.  “Rosa!” Victor said, his press smile faded into a general warmth as he stepped forward to hug her, “How have you been?” 

“Good! I mean the boss is busting my ass over deadlines, but you know that’s life,” she said smiling.

“No,” Victor said, “I don't know.”

“Oh the life of the rich and famous,” she sighed.  She turned to Yuuri and held out her hand, “Rosaline Meakin, reporter for Skate Weekly.” 

Yuuri shook her hand, “A reporter?”

“And a friend,” Victor added putting his arm around Yuuri’s waist.  He smiled brightly at Rosa, “I gave Rosa her first interview for Skate Weekly, and I’ve been a fan of her writing since.”

“Stop it,” she laughed.

“Did you get that promotion?” Victor asked, “You deserve it.”

Rosa sighed, “No.  The boss says I haven’t broken any big stories yet, even though I was the first person to get exclusive interviews with practically every big name in figure skating in the last five years.”

Yuuri and Victor looked at each other.  Victor tilted his head, and Yuuri nodded.  Victor turned back to Rosa, “What about an interview with Victor Nikiforov’s boyfriend?”

Rosa paused, “Yeah.  That could work.”

\-----------------------

**Exclusive First Interview with Figure Skating Legend Victor Nikiforov and Boyfriend**

By Rosaline Meakin

 

Everyone remembers the not-so-surprising moment when Victor Nikiforov (29) won gold at the NHK Trophy in Japan, and the very surprising moment when Yuuri Katsuki (28), Nikiforov’s boyfriend of three months kissed him in the appropriately named kiss and cry.  I recently sat down with the couple (who are adorable together) for their first interview as a couple.

 

M: So let’s start by talking about the kiss that broke the internet! What were your thoughts in that moment?

 

           K: I didn’t really plan it. I was just so proud of him.  It wasn’t until after the kiss that I realized there might be repercussions.

 

           N: Which I didn’t really care about.  I’ve spent long enough hiding who I am, and I refuse to hide Yuuri.  I don’t want anyone to think I’m ashamed of him.

 

M: So, let’s go with the more basic question how’d you meet?

           

            K: Oh jeez, do we have to tell this story?

 

            N: Remember how I got arrested that one time in Canada? That was Yuuri!

 

K: It’s a little more complicated than that, but yes, essentially the first time I met Victor was when I arrested him.

 

M: So you’re a cop?

           

            K: An OPP Officer, actually!

 

M: You’re Canadian?

           

            V: Well, that’s kind of a long story-

\--------------------

 

“The interview was great, Yuuri!” Phichit told him later that night over facetime in the hotel room, “You sounded fine, don’t worry about it!” 

Yuuri laughed, “I was nervous, but Rosa is a friend of Victor’s so we did more as a favour to her.”

“Where is Victor anyways?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri shrugged, “He’s in the shower right now.” 

Phichit stared at Yuuri, “And you’re not in there with him?  Yuuri, get your act together!”

“Calm down.  We’re going out for dinner later.  He said he knows somewhere in the city.” Yuuri told him and he couldn’t keep the smile from his face. 

Phichit raised his eyebrows, “Victor casually just knows people in Barcelona?” 

Yuuri laughed, “Victor just casually knows people everywhere.” He looked up and smiled at Victor who emerged from the bathroom. 

Phichit blinked, “You found this romantic boyfriend who whisks you off to Spain.  Shit, how did Yuuri Katsuki get a sugar daddy before I did?” 

Victor leaned over easily and kissed Yuuri on the cheek, in view of the camera, “His winning personality,” he said and Yuuri giggled.  “That, or his keg-stands.  Not sure which one.” Yuuri pushed Victor away from him and turned back to Phichit. 

“I guess I should get going now,” Yuuri told him, “It was great to talk to you, I’ll see you in a few days!”

Phichit waved at him, “Bye Yuuri! And remember ‘fuck me’ in Spanish is-” Yuuri hung up the video chat before he could receive Phichit’s helpful information.

“You know, about that,” Victor said toweling off his hair as he sat down on the window seat across from Yuuri, “I was thinking maybe you should just come straight to Russia with me.” 

“What?” Yuuri said, looking up from his phone, “Why?”

Victor smiled, “Well I’m going to announce my retirement after the Grand Prix Final.  So I figured you could just come back to Russia with me and help me pack up the rest of my things to move to Canada.”

Yuuri stared at Victor, “Retirement?”

“Yeah,” Victor said casually, gesturing with his hand, “We’ve talked about this.”

“Victor, it’s the middle of the season!”  Yuuri said.

Victor shrugged, “I'm bored, and I’d rather be in Canada with you.” 

“But there are visas and immigration things to work out, Victor!” Yuuri told him running a hand down his face, “You can’t just up and move to Canada.  You should go to Russia and finish out the season while we work your green card.” 

“I already have one.” Victor said simply.

Yuuri blinked, “You already- how?” 

“I applied right after I got back to Russia the first time.  They approved it this morning.” Victor had a small smile on his face, like he was so proud of himself for hiding it from Yuuri.

“Victor, you should have told me.” Yuuri whispered. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said, “Why are you acting like this is a bad thing?”

Yuuri looked up, “I’m not." 

“You are.”

“Look, I just, I can’t ask you to stop skating for me.” Yuuri told him.

“You’re not.” Victor said bluntly, “And who said I was going to stop skating?  I’m just not going to compete anymore.”

“Victor,” Yuuri started.

“No,” Victor held up his hand, “Listen.  I’m going to buy that rink you coach at and fix it up.  It’s a mess, you and I both know that.  And then I’m going to coach.  And be with you.  I’ve wanted to retire for a while now, you just gave me a reason to.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly, “I can’t be the reason you end your career, Victor.” 

“Yuuri,” Victor said, taking his hand, “You could be the reason for everything I do for the rest of my life and I would be more than happy.  I love you.”

“You can’t do everything in your life for another person,” Yuuri said, “That’s not healthy.” 

“I want this,” Victor said gently, “I want you.”

Yuuri stood up and walked to the other side of them room, putting the twin beds they’d pushed together between them.  “I’m not worth it, Vitya.”

“Is that really what you think?” Victor stood up and walked over to him, “Yuuri I have never loved anybody the way that I love you.  You’re worth more than I could ever tell you, and I aim spend every day proving that _I’m_ worthy of _you_.” 

Yuuri was crying now, and Victor brushed away his tears with the back of his hand, “Yuuri, let me come to Canada,” he said.

“Why Canada?” Yuuri joked wetly, “All we have is maple syrup and hockey.”

“Well, why did you choose Canada,” Victor asked. 

Yuuri paused and licked his lips, considering his words.  “I knew someday I’d want to get married,” he finally told him. 

“And you think I don’t?” Victor said softly. 

Yuuri wiped the tears from his eyes vigorously, “Well, if you’re going to be moving across the country for me, and living in my house, I expect a ring on this finger someday.” He placed his hands on Victor’s chest, and Victor wrapped his arms around Yuuri loosely.

“I’m sure we could arrange that,” Victor told him and leaned down and kissed him.  Yuuri opened his mouth for him almost immediately, but pushed him back after less than a minute.

“I have two conditions if you’re going to retire,” Yuuri said, “One, you have to win gold for your last medal.  No ‘Russian Legend’ can leave the sport with anything less.” 

Victor laughed, “Okay, but only if you kiss my medal.  What else?”

Yuuri smiled deviously, “Two, Fóllame.”

Victor stared at him, confused. “Shit,” Yuuri said, “That must not mean what Phichit told me it meant?”

“Oh?” Victor’s mind quickly flashed back the end of Yuuri’s conversation with Phichit, “OH! Okay, yes, uhm... are… are you sure?"

Yuuri bit his bottom lip and nodded, causing Victor’s breath to hitch in his throat, “We can do… that."

“Victor,” Yuuri breathed against his lips, “Fóllame.” Victor crashed his lips against Yuuri’s and slowly pressed him backwards, leading him towards the awaiting hotel bed, well aware that they were going to miss their dinner reservation.

\----------------------

Victor ended up breaking his free skate world record and winning gold.  The reporters were surprised when he announced at the press conference that he was going to retire effective immediately. 

They asked him what his motivation to retire at the top of his game was, but most of their questions were answered when he stepped away from the interview and into the arms of Yuuri Katsuki, who for some reason that the reporters couldn't figure out, was kissing Victor’s last gold medal, while Victor looked the happiest any member of the press could remember him looking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> "Fóllame" - Fuck me (told you i would use this again!)
> 
> wow okay i've had the craziest week i had like 3 essays to write (2/3 are done!!!!) and i wasn't feeling well but i pushed through and went to all my classes until thursday? until i felt like i was dying and had a fever, went to the doctor and i have strep throat so that's awesome
> 
> anyways, we're in the home stretch now with this fic guys! communication has happened and victor and yuuri are like a real adult couple now???? weird
> 
> anyways, by now you guys should know my tumblr and know that you're welcome to come yell at me on it anytime
> 
> OH! one more thing! would anyone be interested if i did a couple one shots after the fic is finished of things that took place during it that were mentioned? (i'm thinking Phichit teaching Yurio hockey would be one)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ: trigger warning on this chapter for guns and blood. You can skip basically the entire first section if this makes you uncomfortable. I can very basically cover the plot if you need me to, just message me on Tumblr!

“I can’t believe you planned on packing your apartment and didn’t even bother to check if you owned boxes,” Yuuri said, holding the door of the mall open for Victor.

“Yes,” Victor said walking backwards in front of Yuuri, “Because just owning boxes is a common thing.”

Yuuri pushed him aside with his arm and looked around the mall, “Where the fuck are we even going to find boxes, Victor? In Canada I’d just go to Staples. Does Russia even have Staples?” he asked.

Victor shrugged, “I don’t remember.  I’d look it up, but I’m too lazy.”

Yuuri sighed and stepped into his place by Victor’s side.  They walked a safe distance from each other and didn’t touch.  It was hard for Yuuri to resist reaching for Victor’s hand, but with the attitudes in Russia it was safer to keep his hands to himself.  Still, Yuuri finally felt confident in the fact that he had Victor, and like a kid with a shiny new toy, he found himself constantly distracted and amazed by him, and constantly wanting to touch him.  It might have been a little possessive on his part as well.  Something that made him just want to yell “this one’s mine”.  Not that the entire world didn’t already know that.  Victor’s coming out had been, well, explosive to say the least, and Russian officials had been subtlety hinting at him that he had to leave the country.

But Victor had always known it would be like that, hadn’t he?  That’s why he’d waited until he was ready to retire and ready to leave Russia.  He confessed to Yuuri that he was going to miss St. Petersburg, but being able to live openly was something he was willing to trade it for.  Yuuri was something he was willing to trade it for.  And Yuuri was ready to be there for when this, being out, got difficult.  He’d never been one to back away from something scary.  Hell, maybe that’s how he became a cop in the first place.

Victor smiled at him, “Penny for your thoughts?”

Yuuri smiled, “Just thinking about the future.”

Victor grinned and nudged him with his shoulder with his hands still in his pockets, an almost brotherly gesture, but Yuuri knew what it meant.  That if Victor could, he would be plastered to Yuuri’s side like he always was.

“And this future,” Victor said, “It looks good?”

“Yes,” Yuuri blushed lightly, “It looks very good. I-”

Yuuri’s hand shot out and pushed Victor down to the ground before he even fully registered what the sound of a gunshot meant.  He kneeled on the ground, next to Victor who’d he’d forced to lay down on his stomach behind the edge of a fountain.

“Stay here,” Yuuri said immediately jumping to all of the training protocols he learnt when he’d started with the force, “and stay down.”

“No,” Victor started.

“Victor,” Yuuri cut him off, “I am not asking.  I am telling you to stay here.”  Yuuri looked up over the edge of the fountain to look for the shooter.

“Yuuri,” he said grabbing his shoulder.  Yuuri looked down at him and Victor quickly pulled his face in for a chaste kiss and then pressed their foreheads together.  “Please be safe.  You don’t have to be hero.”

Yuuri smiled tensely, “I’ll come back for you,” he told him, squeezing his hand quickly and then letting go.  He stayed crouched, but started to move towards where he heard the gunshot.  He ducked as he heard a second shot ring out, and then sprinted towards the sound.  He stopped just short of the corner and looked around.  He saw a boy, probably around seventeen, standing in the middle of the food court.  People had run, but Yuuri still saw a few people ducked under the tables.  Yuuri reached around and checked the familiar weight of a pistol at the small of his back before he inhaled deeply and then stepped around the corner.

“English?” He yelled at the boy.  The boy turned the gun on him.

“Who are you?” The boy asked.

“I take that as a yes for the English then.” Yuuri said, taking slow tentative steps towards him, “I’m nobody to be concerned about.  I’m not going to hurt you.”  He glanced around, trying to find who was injured.  He noticed two security guards laying off to the side, but neither seemed fatally wounded.  His eyes made his way back to the boy.

“You a civilian?” The boy said in broken English.

“I’m Canadian actually,” Yuuri said, trying to keep him talking.  The boy lowered his gun slightly.

“Not politsiya?” The boy asked again.

Yuuri hesitated.  Technically he wasn’t a cop here.  Finally he said, “I’m not politsiya.”

“I don’t like politsiya.” The boy said as though that explained anything.

“Why?” Yuuri asked gesturing at the frightened people.

“I won’t hurt them. They’re not politsiya.” He said.

Yuuri froze, “You want the police?” he asked.  The boy nodded.  He still hadn’t lowered his gun fully.  A third security guard ran into the food court behind the boy.  Yuuri held up his hands in a gesture to stop, hoping the security guard would understand what he was trying to say.  But he didn’t.  The man had barely yelled a sentence in Russian before the boy turned and shot at him.  The bullet hit the man in the leg and took him down.  Yuuri’s heart hammered in his chest as he took quick steps to reach the boy.  He wanted to get close enough to disarm him.

“These men aren’t cops! They’re just guards!” he yelled at the boy until his gun turned back on him.

“Same fucking thing,” the boy said, “Stop.”

Yuuri obeyed and froze in place.  He could hear sirens approaching and he looked past the boy with the gun to the security guard who’d been shot in the leg and prayed he spoke English, “You need to call the police and tell them not to come inside.  He will kill them.”

Yuuri heard the click of the gun that was still pointed on him as the boy pulled back the hammer.  He swallowed thickly and looked back at the boy, “You don't want to do this.  Put down the gun.  These people don’t need to get hurt.”

The boy narrowed his eyes at him.  “You want cops,” Yuuri continued, “But if you don't put down the gun they will come in here and they will kill you.  Do you understand?  No mercy, they will shoot you.”  He made rather morbid gestures with his hands, trying to get his point across.

The boy finally lowered his gun down by his hips, but his hands remained on the trigger.  Yuuri exhaled harshly, it was progress, but still not where it needed to be.  Yuuri looked over at the security guards who’d been shot debating how he could help them while the boy still had a loaded weapon. 

“No helping,” he told him. He must have looked for too long because the boy raised his gun again at Yuuri, at this distance the boy would shoot him point blank, and Yuuri needed to figure out how he could safely disarm him. That’s when Yuuri heard the footsteps behind him.

“Yuuri!” Victor yelled, his voice tense and scared.  Yuuri turned and looked at him with wide eyes, silently begging him to turn and run.

“Victor Nikiforov,” the boy said glaring at Victor over Yuuri’s head.  They began speaking in quick-fire Russian, and despite Victor beginning to teach Yuuri some basic phrases, he didn't pick up a word of their conversation.  When the boy turned the gun on Victor, Yuuri’s vision flashed red and he didn’t have any coherent thought in his head besides protecting Victor when he swiftly pulled out his pistol, clicked off the safety, and aimed it at the boy’s head.

“Put down the gun,” he said slowly pronouncing every word like it was his last, which it very well could be.  The boy kept his gun on Victor but turned his head to look at Yuuri.

“So, you’re the politsiya he’s fucking?” the boy asked.  Victor visibly flinched in Yuuri’s peripheral vision, but Yuuri didn’t dare to look directly at him, fearing that if he did he wouldn’t be strong enough not to fall apart.  Yuuri took a shaky breath.

“So what if I am?” He asked. 

The boy glared at him. “You said you weren’t politsiya.”

“I’m not. I’m Canadian.  I have no jurisdiction here.” Yuuri said simply.  He could hear Victor’s unsteady breathing.

“Maybe I’ll shoot him first.  Make you watch,” the boy said.

Yuuri’s chest constricted with anger, “Did you fail to notice that I’ve got a gun pointed at your head?  If you touch him, I will shoot you.”

“So I shoot you first and then what?  No satisfaction out of that.”

Victor’s breath hitched, “Yuuri,” he whispered softly.  Yuuri still hadn’t looked at him.  He knew that the stupid man would be watching him and not the gun pointed at his chest.  They boy snapped something at him in Russian and Yuuri knew he had to redirect the conversation back to himself.  He needed to get that gun off Victor.

“Shoot me first because I’m police.  You don’t like police, remember?  Victor’s a skater for god’s sake.  What’s he going to do? Stab you with a skate? I don’t think so,” Yuuri rambled, but it got the boy too look back at him.

“I’m curious as to why you haven’t pulled the trigger yet.” The boy said as he finally turned towards Yuuri, taking the gun off Victor.

“That’s why,” Yuuri said and pulled the trigger. 

Yuuri heard Victor scream before he noticed that he’d fallen to his knees, while the boy was heaped over on the ground in front of him.  He was sure which one of them had shot first, but it didn’t really matter.  Victor reached him in a matter of seconds and kneeled in front of him grasping Yuuri’s face between his hands, but everything was numb and silent except the pain and the sight of the boy.  Yuuri put his hand on the ground to crawl forward and recoiled from the bolt of pure fire that ran through his arm, shoulder and chest.  He looked down at his right shoulder and blinked.

“Oh, I guess I’ve been shot,” he said calmly looking at Victor.

“You guess?” Victor yelled.  He tended to raise his voice when he panicked, so Yuuri didn’t take it personally.

“Victor,” Yuuri said looking at him with wide eyes, “I need you to move.”

“Move? Why would I move?” He demanded, but Yuuri just gently pushed him aside with his good arm and painfully shuffled on his knees towards the boy, “What are you doing?” Victor asked again.

Yuuri reached forward and probed at the boy’s neck until he found what he was looking for.  He sat back heavily and sighed.

“He’s alive,” Yuuri choked out, “oh my god.” He stared at the gushing gunshot wound on the boy’s chest and dove forward to apply pressure to it.  His hands were blood soaked, and he wasn't sure who’s blood it was.  He saw a pair of pale hands cover his own and looked up at Victor’s concerned face.

“Victor,” Yuuri said in a small voice, “I need you to call an ambulance.”

“Yuuri, you can’t do this,” Victor said, “You need pressure on your shoulder, you can’t save this man too.”

“Boy, Victor.  He’s a boy, look at him.”

“He shot four people.”

“I can’t have killed him.” Yuuri said and look of recognition passed over Victor’s face.  Victor took a shaky breath and pushed Yuuri’s hand’s off the boy’s wound before covering it with his own.  Quickly Victor started yelling in Russian to the bystanders.  While Yuuri sat back and looked down at his shirt that was covered in blood.  He closed his eyes, trying to push away the blackness that was creeping in at the edge of his vision and brought a shaky hand to run over his face.  He jerked back painfully when he felt the warm stickiness of blood on his cheek and tried to wipe it away, but probably only made it worse.  He looked up at Victor who was watching him with a terrified look on his face and tried to smile at him, but instead his vision went black.

 

\------------------------

Victor’s heart stopped when Yuuri grimaced at him and then collapsed.  He yelled out to anybody to go and put pressure on Yuuri’s shoulder.  He glared down at the boy whose blood he was now covered in.  Well, some it might have also been Yuuri’s but he wasn’t sure.

“If you live and he dies I will make your life fucking hell,” he whispered.  Victor knew why Yuuri wanted him to live.  He knew that if Yuuri woke up and found out he was a killer that wasn't something he could come back from.  That it would destroy him, and Victor wasn’t going to let that happen.  So he kept the boy who might have killed the love of his life alive.

When the EMT’s showed up and took over for Victor they didn’t let him close enough to see Yuuri.  Victor stood in the middle of the food court covered in blood and shaking. 

“Nikiforov,” the security guard who’d been shot in the leg got his attention and Victor walked over to where he’d been propped up in a chair to have his leg wrapped.  He spoke to Victor in a hushed voice, “You tell your boy when he wakes up that I have a weapons permit and you tell him to say that gun was mine, you understand?”

Victor nodded and pulled away from the man. “You tell him that he’s a goddamn hero.”

Victor wanted to laugh bitterly at what the man had added.  Yuuri always did exactly what Victor told him not to do.  Victor watched them roll his stretcher away and he ran to catch up with them and join them in the ambulance.  He was stopped by the EMT at the door.

“Family only,” She said, “Sorry.”

“You know who I am?” Victor asked and she nodded, “Then you know who he is to me and I’m getting in this fucking ambulance whether or not you like it.”

The woman paused, and then moved aside so Victor could climb in.  He grabbed Yuuri’s hand the moment he was close enough.  The first time Victor had seen Yuuri sober he had thought “Oh no, this one.  This one could be trouble.”  And now, watching him like this Victor realized just how right he had been.

“I don’t always want to be right,” Victor had once told Yuuri in Japan as a joke, “It’s practically a curse.” Yuuri had rolled his eyes and kissed him in front of his family for the first time, and Victor had felt nothing but pure bliss.

Now, being right felt like a sucker punch to the chest.  Like Victor had had all of the wind knocked out of him.  Like Yuuri was his oxygen, and right now Victor was suffocating.

The EMT who let Victor on the ambulance put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently.

“Is he going to live?” Victor finally asked.

The EMT was quiet for a while and then said, “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Can he survive this?” Victor clarified.  He needed some kind of hope to grasp onto.

“Yes,” She told him, “Yes, he can.”

\-----------------------------

The hospital was too clean and too quiet for Victor’s taste.  The staff had offered him scrubs when he arrived on account of him being covered in blood, and he accepted them, but hadn’t yet found the motivation to put them on.  He sat in the waiting room and stared at the wall, knowing full well that Yuuri could be dead and the staff legally wouldn't tell him.  He heard the murmurs as he was recognized by people in the hospital.  Victor Nikiforov had been sitting in a waiting room for hours covered in blood.  It was probably trending on twitter by now.

Right now Victor didn’t want to be Victor Nikiforov.  He didn’t want to be anything, but a member of Yuuri’s family.  He just wanted to know.

“Mr. Nikiforov?” A woman in a doctor’s jacket standing at the door said his name.  Victor looked up at her blankly. “You’re Yuuri Katsuki’s emergency contact, aren’t you?” She asked.  Victor felt his chest tighten.  When had Yuuri done this?  It was smart really.  The only way he’d find out any information about him.

“Yes,” He said standing up, “I am.  Is he alive?”

“He’s alive,” She told him and Victor felt a million pounds come off his shoulders, “He needed a blood transfusion, but he should make a full recovery with full motion in his arm.”

Victor wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry, so he just stood there in shock.  “Is he awake?” Victor asked.

“Not yet, but I can take you to see him, if you’d like?” She said and Victor nodded before following her down the hall to Yuuri’s room.

He was hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV.  He looked a little pale, but other than that Yuuri looked fine.  Victor breathed a sigh of relief and walked over to the side of his bed to take in every inch of Yuuri’s face, beyond grateful that he was alive.  Victor had been raised with skating as his only religion, but this moment had him thanking any and every God he could think of.

The doctor cleared her throat, “You might want to change your clothes before he wakes up,” she told him and then closed the door to the room, leaving them alone.  Victor immediately went into the washroom and washed off all of the blood that he could see and changed into the scrubs.  He pulled the chair up next to Yuuri’s bed and sat down next to him, taking his hand in his.  Yuuri’s hand felt warm and calloused, like it always had and Victor scrolled back through his list of gods to thank all of them again.

\--------------------------

When Yuuri woke up the first thing he registered was a pleasant weight on his thigh.  When he looked down he guess from the silver blur in his vision that Victor was using him as a pillow.  He used his left hand to brush Victor’s hair back from his face and squinted to try and make out his features.

“I thought I told you not to be a hero.” Victor mumbled from where his head was pillowed.

“I was tired of you getting all the attention,” Yuuri told him and Victor sat up slowly so as not jostle Yuuri’s shoulder.  He leaned forwards and kissed him tenderly, as though Yuuri might break.  So Yuuri lifted his left hand and pulled Victor into him so he could kiss him properly.  He realized Victor was crying when he tasted the saltiness on his lips.

“Victor,” he whispered, “Where are my glasses?  I want to see you.”  When they finally found Yuuri’s glasses and they were properly situated on Yuuri’s face, a doctor came by to check Yuuri’s shoulder.

“I know you’re not supposed to tell me this,” Yuuri said, “but the boy.  The shooter.  Please, just tell me if he’s alive.”

The doctor looked taken aback, but then nodded, “He’s alive,” she said.  And Yuuri looked beyond relieved.

“That’s good.” He said quietly, “I’m glad.”

Victor stood quietly in the corner until the doctor left and then cleared his throat, “You might want to call Phichit,” he said, “I bet he’s worried.  It got out to the news that I was there, so I’m sure he knows.”

“Victor,” Yuuri said softly, “You’re upset.”

“Of course I’m upset!” Victor didn’t raise his voice, afraid to attract attention Yuuri assumed, “I thought I watched you fucking die Yuuri!”

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri started.

“No! That’s the thing, you have nothing to be sorry for!” Victor ran a hand across his face, an action that Yuuri realized he’d picked up from him, “You saved everyone’s lives.  You were a fucking hero. I can’t be mad at you for that.  But I was so scared, Yuuri.  I thought I was going to lose you and I couldn’t even hold you because I had to keep the boy alive.”

“Is that what this is about?” Yuuri asked, “The boy?”

“No it’s not about that! It’s about the fact that you had to play the goddamn martyr card and I had to stand by and watch.”

“I’m a cop, Victor,” Yuuri said through gritted teeth, “Protect and serve remember?  It’s my job.”

“Not in Russia!” Victor reminded him. 

“No, everywhere.” Yuuri said, “I can’t just let people die.  That’s not who I was raised to be.” 

“What would I have done if you died?” Victor yelled, “You told him to shoot you, Yuuri! How could I have lived with myself if he had of killed you?”  When Victor started crying, Yuuri was taken aback.  He hadn’t seen Victor cry, and to realize that he was the reason for that made him feel a tightness in his chest that he’d never felt before. 

“Hey,” Yuuri said extending his arm for Victor to come and lean into, “Shh, it’s okay, I’m fine.  I’m fine.” He shifted his weight on the bed and Victor laid down on his left side, pillowing his face into Yuuri’s shoulder.

"Why did you even have a gun, Yuuri?" Victor asked.

Yuuri inhaled deeply and then told Victor the truth, "I didn't know how people would react in Russia since you just came out and I... I didn't want to risk up getting jumped in a alley or something and not having any protection."  Victor sighed and then nodded against Yuuri's chest.  They sat in silence for a couple of minutes until Victor cleared his throat. 

“I love you,” Victor said. 

Yuuri kissed the top of his head, “I love you too,” he told him.

\-----------------------

Yuuri sent Victor home after all of the statements to the police were finished.  He told him to finish packing so they could go the fuck back to Canada as soon as he was released from the hospital.  The Russian government had told him that he could give a written testimony since he could not speak Russian while they still hadn’t decided if they would use Victor as a witness, which meant that they were free to leave the country.  Yuuri had been in the hospital for three days when Yurio came to visit him.  He’d been watching a Russian soap opera and making up his own dialogue for the show.  He wasn’t really sure what was going on, but he knew that Vladimir was in love with Ogla but Olga was sleeping with Ivanchik who was Vladimir’s twin brother only they were separated at birth and didn’t know their parentage.  He half hoped he was right in his guessing, but didn’t really care if he was wrong.

“Hey piggy,” Yurio said when he stepped into Yuuri’s room.

“Yurio!” Yuuri greeted him warmly and gestured to the chair that Yuri could sit in.  They looked at each other for a solid minute before Yurio finally said something. 

“So, are you still going to be able to do kegstands? Or are you like permanently fucked?” He asked.

Yuuri laughed earnestly for the first time since the shooting, it hurt, badly, but Yuuri thought it was worth it, “I think I’ll be able to do one, but only time will tell.”

“Listen, pig,” Yurio said, “I’m going to tell you why I hated you.”

“I… uhm okay?” Yuuri said feeling very confused.

“I don’t like cops,” Yurio said and Yuuri flinched, thinking back to the words the shooter had told him, “I don't know if you know this, but I live with my grandfather.  My dad was taken in on low level drug charges when I was a kid and I haven’t seen him outside of a prison since I was six.  So I don’t trust cops." 

Yuuri nodded, “I know the justice system is corrupt, Yurio, but you can’t honestly think-”

Yurio cut him off, “If you say anything close to a not all cops bullshit I will punch you.  I look at what’s happening in the states and I dislike cops even more.  There’s no excuses, cops are shitty.  And I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t think you deserved Victor.  He knew you for what? A week? And he was ready to pack up and move across the country for you.  And because of you I was going to lose a man who’s like a second father to me.  Two cops taking my dads, do you see a pattern here?”  Yuuri nodded but didn’t say anything, “And then you literally threw yourself in front of a gun for him.  So I get the message loud and clear, okay?  You love him.  You didn’t have to be all dramatic and get shot to prove it.”

Yuuri blinked, “Are you giving us your blessing?”

Yurio glared at him, “Stop looking like you’ve just been shot.”

“I have been,” Yuuri reminded him.

“Look, if a blessing is what you want to fucking call it, then sure.” Yurio said angrily putting his feet up on Yuuri’s bed.  They sat and watched the soap opera in silence for a few minutes before Yurio added, “If you tell the old man that I said he’s like a father to me I will shoot you in your other shoulder.  Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Yuuri laughed.

Yurio began to explain the plot of the soap opera to Yuuri without even being asked to, and Yuuri saw it for what it was, an olive branch.  Yurio was apologizing for being a giant douche nozzle in his special Yurio way, and Yuuri was completely ready to accept it.  The thought that Yurio finally trusted him made him almost as excited as when he won a free coffee on a roll-up the rim cup.  Almost.

“You know the asshole said he’d coach me? I guess that’s not going to happen now.” Yurio said.  His rage was impressive for someone so small, Yuuri noted.

“He’s been talking about coaching in Canada” Yuuri said, “Buying the arena I coach Timbits at and fixing it up so that he can coach there.”

“Fucking, good for him, I guess.” Yurio said bitterly.

“I still have a guest room you know.” Yuuri said gently, “You could come live with us and train under Victor if that’s what you really want?" 

Yurio eyed him suspiciously, “Why?”

Yuuri shrugged his shoulders, and then immediately regretted it.  He pushed on, “Don't tell Victor I told you this, but he kind of thinks of you as a son.  And I think given a chance, I probably could too.”

Yurio nodded and then went back to translating the show. 

“Hey Yurio,” Yuuri said softly. 

“Yeah?” 

“This time, just don’t kick my door in.  Maybe, just, I don't know... use it like a normal person?” Yuuri asked purely out of good humour.

Yurio paused, “I’ll consider it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> "Politsiya" - Police
> 
> someone said the biggest plot twist would be if Yuuri actually did some police work (and i lied and said it wouldn't have bc i've had this planned from the beginning) so SURPRISE i guess
> 
> okayyyy so this chapter was heavier than usual im sorry it wasn't very funny but it was kind of an important plot point because this is Victor's real and final separation from Russia so it needed to happen sorry guys! 
> 
> im not justifying the shooters actions by constantly referring to him as a boy btw, i just wanted to truly point out how young he is and sad commentary on society or something like that (idk im not that smart guys) Yuuri wanted him to live because Yuuri didn't want to be a killer in any capacity
> 
> anyways as usual you guys are amazing and i hope you dont hate me too much for this chapter (i promise the rest of the fic is going to be happy!!!!!)
> 
> love it or hate it, either way come yell at me about it on tumblr @impolitecanadian love u guys and the next update will be whenever uni stops actively murdering me


	15. Chapter 15

Victor put his head in his hands and stared blankly at the open file folder in front of him.  I’m a skater, he thought to himself, why on earth did I think I could do anything with math?  He exhaled deeply and tried to make the numbers make sense in his head.  His entire life was dependant on these numbers.  Well, not exactly, but he had invested a fair bit of money into buying the local rink.

It had been almost a year and a half since Victor had officially moved to Canada and into Yuuri’s house.  He officially purchased the rink a year ago and had closed it during its off season to start the much needed renovations.  He had fixed the ice itself as well as updating all the locker rooms and adding heated lounges and an observation area for parents.  It wasn’t anywhere near the high quality of the rink he’d trained on with Yakov, but Victor didn't need this rink to be world-class.  It was comfortable with a solid surface to skate on, and that’s all that mattered to him.  It was up to the regulations of an ISU rink, but as per Yuuri’s request, maintain all of the lines and markings in the ice for hockey.  The rink was his pride and joy, and even if Yuuri teased him about loving the arena more than him, they were both equally excited for its grand re-opening tomorrow.

Victor’s head shot up when he heard Yuuri’s cruiser pull into the driveway and he bolted off the couch and into the kitchen.  Yuuri had told Victor he had to work late tonight, and it was nearly midnight when he finally got home.

Yuuri sighed as he kicked his boots off on the edge of the door frame and stepped inside.  He looked at Victor who was standing in front of the kitchen sink with his back to the counter.

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Victor asked, winking awkwardly at Yuuri.

“Victor, I’m literally a cop.  It’s a gun.” Yuuri said, taking off his belt and hat to hang up by the front door, “Why are you standing like that?  Did you forget to do the dishes again?”

“No!” Victor said adamantly.  Yuuri raised his eyebrows and Victor sheepishly stepped aside so Yuuri could see the pile in the sink, “Maybe.  I was balancing the books for the rink.”

“I don’t know why you won’t just hire an accountant.” Yuuri said stepping out of his boots and walking towards the kitchen.

“No accountants,” Victor told him, “We die like men.”  Yuuri rolled his eyes and leaned back against the island to watch Victor start washing the dishes.  Victor kept his back to Yuuri as he started scrubbing out a mug, but he could feel Yuuri’s eyes watching him.  Yuuri was usually tired when he came home from working a late shift, and Victor wondered why he was still hanging around in the kitchen.

“Why don’t you go to bed?” He asked, “You must be tired.”

“I’m not.”  Yuuri didn’t elaborate.  He just kept watching Victor.

“Okay,” Victor said letting his curiosity get the better of him, “What are you thinking about?”

“Marry me.” Yuuri said it so simply.  Like it wasn’t even a question.  Victor dropped the mug and turned to look at him.

Victor forced his jaw to close so he could speak, “You… You fucking asshole.”

Yuuri just laughed at him, “I’m pretty sure I asked a yes or no question.  I wasn’t aware that was an option.”

“How long?” Victor asked, “How long have you known?”

“Since the day you brought the ring home.” Yuuri was still laughing as he answered, “Victor we share a sock drawer.”

Victor slapped a wet hand to his forehead, “Fuck.  We do.  I’m an idiot.”

“A cute one though,” Yuuri added.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Victor asked.

Yuuri stepped towards him and wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck, “Because I figured you would eventually ask me, but it’s been two months Victor and I don’t need something giant and romantic.  I just want to marry you.”

“Well there goes literally all of my plans.” Victor stared at Yuuri and shook his head.  He started to walk away from him and out of the kitchen.

“Victor wait,” Yuuri said, grabbing his arm, “I’m sorry.”

“Just don’t Yuuri,” Victor snapped, “Just… leave me alone for a minute, okay?” Yuuri let go of his bicep and watched as Victor stormed down the hallway to their bedroom.  Makkachin lifted her head up off her bed to watch Victor as he yanked open their sock drawer and pulled out the velvet box that contained the gold ring he’d bought Yuuri.  He felt a little bad snapping at Yuuri like that, but he wanted to surprise him, and this was the only thing he could think of on short notice.  He walked out of their room and slammed the door behind him, hopefully to make Yuuri think he was still in there.  Victor peaked around the corner to make see where Yuuri was and found that he’d started finishing the dishes Victor had left in the sink.  Victor’s own wet hands were probably ruining the velvet box, but he didn’t care.

“I should have known he was planning something,” Yuuri said.

“You couldn’t have known that,” Victor heard Phichit answer, and saw that Yuuri’s phone was propped on the windowsill, with Phichit’s face in the screen.  Victor made eye contact with Phichit and put his finger to his lips praying that for the first time in his life Phichit would stay quiet.  He finally walked towards Yuuri, avoiding every creaky plank in the floor that he knew of.

“It’s Victor,” Yuuri said, “Obviously he was planning something.  He’s never going to forgive me and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Phichit’s face broke out into a huge grin when he realized that Victor was slowly lowering himself to the ground, “I wouldn’t say that.  Turn around, Yuuri.”

Yuuri turned around and the confused look on his face was quickly replaced with shock when he saw Victor on his knee behind him. “Oh Victor, you absolute dickhead” he breathed.

“Officer Katsuki,” Victor said opening the box and holding it up, “I think you and I both know that ever since you put me in a jail cell you’ve had my heart locked down.  I have never been as happy as I have been in the almost two years that I’ve been lucky enough to know you and love you.  So will you please marry-”

Yuuri dropped to his knees in front of Victor and threw himself into his arms, “Yes! Of course! Yes!”  Yuuri pulled back just long enough to kiss Victor very enthusiastically before pulling back a second time so that Victor could put the ring on his finger.  Victor could distantly hear Phichit squealing congratulations in the background, but it didn't really register. 

"Wait," Yuuri said, "You're not just marrying me for my kegstands right?"

"Obviously I am only here because of the kegstands." Victor replied and pulled Yuuri towards him.

“You guys need anything? Some snacks? A condom? God I love you,” Phichit said and Yuuri held back a laugh.

“Phichit,” Yuuri said not taking his eyes off Victor, “I’m going to need you to hang up now.”  He leaned in and started kissing Victor again.

“Are you guys going to fuck on the kitchen floor? Because that’s not sanitary, guys.” Phichit said from where the phone was situated on the windowsill.  Victor, without breaking from the kiss, reached up with one of his hands and flipped off the phone.  “Oh, real mature Victor.” Phichit added.

“Phichit!” Yuuri yelled as Victor moved to start kissing his neck, “I am begging you, please hang up.”

“Don’t let me stop you! I can’t really see anything it’s fine.” Phichit said as Victor drew an involuntary moan from Yuuri, “Ooooh, Get it, Yuuri!”

“Phichit,” Victor finally said pulling away from Yuuri, “I am trying really hard to get some from my incredibly hot fiancé, and that won’t happen until you hang up, so please for the love of fucking god hang up.  Fucking hang up.”

“Fine. Be safe!” Victor and Yuuri were kissing again as soon as they heard the tone that meant Phichit had hung up.

“Victor, as much as I’d love to have sex here just to spite Phichit, I’d rather we move this somewhere else.”  Victor nodded, and pulled Yuuri up with him, before allowing Yuuri to jump onto him, wrapping his legs around Victor’s waist so that Victor could carry them to their bedroom.  He tried to feel slightly guilty about kicking Makkachin out, but Yuuri’s hands were far too distracting for him to really dwell on it.

\----------------------------------

“Victor! Yuuri!” Victor and Yuuri turned to a flash of red hair and Yuuri dropped Victor’s hand so he could step forward to hug her over the boards.

“Rosa! What are you doing in Canada?” Yuuri asked.

“My boss sent me to cover the opening of your rink since our interviews always seem to, and I quote: break the internet.” She laughed as she clearly recalled the overwhelming response to the last interviewed she’d done with Victor and Yuuri.

“Well we’re having an all-day free skate to celebrate the re-opening.  You should rent some skates and join us on the ice,” Victor said and gestured down at the ice he was standing on.  He’d already done a few jumps to entertain the crowds but he was pacing himself, expecting to be called into action a few times through the day.  Yuuri on the other hand was wearing his hockey skates and was mainly spending the day helping people who didn’t know how to skate.

“No, that’s okay,” Rosa said, “I think I’ll keep my feet where I know I won’t die.”

“Fair enough,” Victor laughed, “Any particular questions?”

“I know you’ve announced that you’re planning to start coaching skaters.  Are there any prospective students you have in mind?” She asked.

Victor smiled brightly, “Actually yes, Yuri Plisetsky is going to be coming to Canada to train with me for a few months before the competitive season.”

“That’s very exciting!” Rosa exclaimed they went back and forth about skating for a while, most of which Yuuri was not able to understand even with Victor’s lessons.  Rosa must have decided it was time to move on to a new topic because she asked, “Since you now own this arena, do you intend on staying Canada permanently?”

“Well, since I’m marrying a Canadian citizen, I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet that I’m going to stay here.”  Yuuri blushed beside Victor who looked smug as hell as Rosa registered what Victor had said.

“No way! Congratulations guys!  When did you get engaged?” She asked.

Yuuri said “Last night!” at the same that Victor said “This morning!”, they both turned and looked at each other.

“I can’t believe we did it again,” Yuuri said.

Rosa looked confused, “Did what again?”

“We put a major moment of our relationship around midnight again so we can’t agree what day it was on,” Victor said, “But it’s a good thing I always have a solution.”

Yuuri glared at him and whispered, “Don’t you dare say it-”

“Two anniversaries!” Victor declared and Yuuri ran a hand down his face.

“I’m going to go see if anybody needs help,” he said and quickly leaned up to kiss Victor on his cheek before skating away.

Rosa fist-bumped Victor over the boards, “Good catch with that one,” she said.

“Believe me,” Victor smiled softly in Yuuri’s direction, “I know.”

“When did you realize you were in love with him?” Rosa asked.  Victor’s eyes were still glued on Yuuri who was skating backwards, with a kid who looked to be about seven in front of him.

“Probably the first time he put handcuffs on me,” Victor said fondly.  Yuuri’s head snapped up and he stared at Victor with wide eyes.

“The first time?  You’ve only been arrested once…” Rosa said and Yuuri skated backwards directly into the boards.

\-------------------------

“The opening went well, didn’t it?” Victor called as he sat down on the couch. 

Yuuri’s voice came from the end of the hallway since he was still changing, “I definitely think so,” he said, “But Victor we need to talk about that interview.”

“Why? What did I say?” Victor asked.

“The handcuffs, Victor.  I’ve only handcuffed you once.” Yuuri said, peeking his head around the corner of the hall to look at Victor.

“Yes, I know.” Victor looked confused as he made eye contact with Yuuri, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Well…” Yuuri swallowed thickly, “Do you want me to?”

Victor just looked even more confused, “To what?”

“Handcuff you.” Yuuri’s eyes were aimed at anywhere other than Victor as he suggested it. 

He heard Victor’s clear his throat before he answered, “Kind of.”

Yuuri sighed, “Oh thank god, or else I’d look ridiculous,” he said as he stepped around the corner in his OPP uniform.

Victor’s breath hitched, “Oh my god,” he said.

“So,” Yuuri leaned against the wall, knowing he was failing to look casual, “Do you want to?”

Victor didn’t hesitate before saying, “Yes.”

Yuuri decided right then that he was going to have a lot of fun with this, and a lot of fun making fun of Victor for this later, “Yes what?”

Victor licked his lips, his eyes straying from Yuuri’s face to take in the uniform, “Yes officer.”

Yuuri stepped towards him, “Victor Nikiforov, you have the right to remain silent-”

Victor cut him off, “You don't actually have to recite my rights.”

Yuuri blushed deeply, “Right, sorry, habit.”

Victor reached up and grabbed the front of Yuuri’s uniform to pull him down to him and kissed him fiercely.  Yuuri kissed him back with the same enthusiasm before making a squeak of protest and pushing him back.

“Victor, I have to actually wear this to work tomorrow, so can we please be careful with the uniform?” Yuuri asked.

Victor stared at him, “I’ll do my best, but no promises,” he said before pulling Yuuri back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im kinkshaming victor (who had padded handcuffs ready for this exact moment what a fucking dork)
> 
> we're so close to the end of the fic!!! the next chapter is the last real chapter since the last one is just going to be a series of timestamps to tie up the plot its crazy how far this has come and i cannot thank all you enough for all of your support!
> 
> i hope everyone had a safe and fun st. paddy's day! especially if you were at a university for it bc jesus uni kids know how to party


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE

They decided to get married in Canada.  There were many contributing factors to it, but in the end it came down less to the legality issues, and more to the fact that to both of them Canada had really become home.  Victor offered to pay for Yuuri’s family to fly in from Japan, which Yuuri gratefully allowed him to do.  After a lot of debating, Yuuri finally talked Victor into a small wedding with just their families and close friends – which of course meant that the entire town was planning to attend, and Yuuri was starting to feel nervous about it.  Not about marrying Victor.  That he was certain of.  But he felt strange to think about how he was going to put on display.  How such an intimate moment was going to be put on display.

The night before their wedding he could barely lie down, let alone sleep.  Victor had quickly shut down any notion of them trying not to see each other before their wedding, so they were still sharing a bed.  Which meant that every single time Yuuri tossed and turned, Victor felt it.

“Want to talk about it?” Victor asked, rolling over so he could look at Yuuri. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said as Victor flicked on the lamp on his side of the bed, “I didn’t mean wake you.  It’s just nerves, you know? Like pre-wedding jitters or whatever.” 

Victor reached up and brushed some of Yuuri’s hair out of his eyes, “Nervous about the wedding or marriage?” he asked.

“The wedding, Victor,” Yuuri said, “I’m not worried about being married to you.  In fact, I wish we were just married already.”

Victor tossed the blankets aside and stood up extending a hand to Yuuri, “Come with me.”

“What? Where?” Yuuri asked.

“Trust me,” Victor said, “And let’s go.”

Victor handed Yuuri one of his team Russia sweatshirts, which Yuuri graciously pulled over his head.  Early May wasn’t the warmest season to get married in, but it was the easiest to work around the busy competitive skating season, and since a lot of Victor’s friends (who had become by extension, Yuuri’s friends) were skaters including Victor’s best man, Christophe Giacometti, they had to plan around the season. 

Yuuri lifted the collar of Victor’s sweatshirt and inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of Victor’s cologne.  Victor was still standing in front of Yuuri with his hand extended, which Yuuri finally accepted and let him pull him up.  “Where are we going?” Yuuri asked again.

“Just shhh.” Victor said and pulled Yuuri along behind him.  Yuuri smiled to himself when he noticed that Victor had pulled on Yuuri’s OPP hoodie over his t-shirt.  He hoped Victor wasn’t talking him anywhere public, considering it was nearly midnight and they were both dressed in sweatshirts and sweatpants, but he wouldn’t put it past Victor to do anything to surprise him and – “Oh,” Yuuri breathed as Victor pulled him out onto the back porch.

Victor turned and smiled warmly at him, his face softened by all of the candlelight.

Yuuri looked wide-eyed at the path of candles that led to the end of dock, “How did you?”

“I bought the candles about a month ago when you started getting nervous.  They’re fake, so don’t worry about fire.  I worked out the rest with Phichit.  I texted him 911 about an hour ago.  He did all of this while you were trying to fall asleep.” Victor said, clearly proud that he had managed to hide all of this from Yuuri.

“What for?” Yuuri asked, still a little breathless.  He should be used to grand romantic gestures by now, but Yuuri didn’t think he ever could.  Nobody could ever get used to Victor Nikiforov, a man who was a grand gesture himself.

“Yuuri,” Victor was still holding his hand, but he turned to face Yuuri directly, “Marry me.”

Yuuri laughed, “I’m already marrying you, doofus.”

“No,” Victor said, his smile growing wider, “Right now.  Yuuri, marry me right now.”

“What?” Yuuri said, “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am,” Victor told him, “Phichit got ordained.  Let’s get married right now.”

“Victor, we can’t.  We have a wedding tomorrow –”

Victor cut him off, “We’ll still have a wedding tomorrow.  We’ll just already be married.  Nobody needs to know, and then it’ll be easier for you because you’ve already done it.”

Yuuri stared at him, “But…" 

“You know,” Victor said, “Somebody very dear once told me something that I think of every time I’m hesitant to do something.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Yuuri asked.

“Put your stick on the fucking ice.” Victor said simply.

Yuuri burst out laughing, “Put my what? Where?” He said, echoing Victor from so many years ago. “Okay,” he finally said, “Let’s do it.  Let’s get married.”

“Yeah?” Victor asked excitedly.

Yuuri nodded, “Yeah.”  Victor hugged him, picking him up and spinning him around in a circle before setting him back down.  Yuuri put his hand in Victor’s outstretched one, and walked with him side-by-side down the candlelit path that led to the end of dock.

“Took you long enough,” Phichit said when Victor and Yuuri finally got close enough to hear him.

“Can you even marry us?” Yuuri asked, “Don’t you have to actually know what you’re doing? I think there’s like a law or something.”

“Very funny,” Phichit said, “And I know what I’m doing thank you very much.”

“Do you really though?” Victor asked.

Phichit placed a hand over his heart. “I can’t believe, after everything I do for you two, that you’d team up on me like this,” he said earnestly, “I’m a good person.  I don’t deserve this.”

“Are you going to marry us, or not?” Victor asked, over top of Phichit’s complaining.

“Oh right.  I forgot I was supposed to be doing that.” Phichit pulled out his phone and tapped it until he opened a document that had whatever it was he needed to say to make the wedding official.  “Alright,” he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to witness–” 

“Phichit,” Yuuri cut him off, “We can probably skip all of this, considering that there’s nobody here.”

“Herman’s here,” Phichit said, pointing to where the bear was sniffing at the edge of the woods.

Victor leaned over so he could look past Yuuri’s head, “Do you think we could get him to bear the rings?”

Yuuri blinked.  “I changed my mind.  I can’t marry him.  Bye.” He said and started to turn away before Victor caught tugged on his hand.

“It’s too late for you to get out of this one,” Victor told him, “We share a Netflix account.”

“True,” Yuuri said, “Alright, I’ll still marry you. But only for the Netflix.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Victor replied.

Phichit continued, “Alright, so since this wedding is kind of weird and it’s my first why don’t you guys just like say your vows or something.” 

“We didn’t write vows,” Yuuri said, “We’re having a traditional ceremony.”

“Ugh, but that’s so much work,” Phichit whined, “Can’t you just make them up?”

“We can try,” Victor said.

“No,” Yuuri interjected, “No, we cannot.”

“I’ll go first, and then you can just repeat me if you really can’t think of anything?” Victor offered.

Yuuri sighed, “I hate you.  Fine.”

“Okay, so do I just like start talking?” Victor asked. 

“I think so, yeah?” Phichit answered.

“Wow,” Yuuri said, “You’re almost as good at being at being an officiant as you are at being a cop.”

“Oh, that’s a bit hypocritical don’t you think?” Phichit said.

“Hey can we get fucking married, or what?” Victor interrupted.

“What?” Yuuri and Phichit said in sync. 

“Marriage.  Wedding.  Vows.”  Victor said, “Any of this ringing a bell?”

“Right, sorry.”

“Okay,” Victor said, “I’m just going to start now.” Victor paused, taking a deep dramatic breath before continuing, “Yuuri, I never thought that getting arrested would turn into the best thing in my life, but here we are.  You have done more for me than I could have expected or even dreamed of.  You’ve loved me through every time I didn't do the dishes, and every late night that I thought I could be an accountant.  You have saved me in so many ways, Yuuri.” Victor reached out with his left hand and placed it over the scar that Yuuri bore on his right shoulder. “I can never repay you for everything that you’ve done for me and everything that you are to me.  But I can start by just vowing to try to make you half as happy as you make me.  And if someday I am as good a man as you are, then I know that’s all because loving you has made me better.  You have made me better.  I love you, and I can’t wait to be married to you because I know that no matter what, this is going to be forever.  And forever leaves me with plenty of time to surprise you in the same way that you have always surprised me.  And that’s what I vow to do.  To love you and to always surprise you.”

Phichit wiped a tear from his eye, “That’s like really gay, Victor.”

Yuuri reached out without taking his eyes off Victor and slapped Phichit on the arm.  “Victor,” He started, “That was.  Wow.  Every day I think that I’ve hit the maximum level that I can love you, and every day you do something that manages to make me love you even more.  Victor, when we met I knew that while you were drunk off your ass, you were also something special.  I knew that you were kind, and maybe a little bit dramatic, and I knew that I wanted to get to know you better.  And when I did, I learnt that you were a great man.  The most decorated figure skater of all time, which is undoubtedly great.  But Victor, you are also a good man.  And that’s the man that I fell in love with.  And that’s the man that I vow to love until the day that I die.  You’re it for me, Victor.  This is it.”

“That’s so fucking cute,” Phichit said.  Victor and Yuuri both turn and looked at him.  “Oh, right.  By the power vested in me by the state of… I mean the province of Ontario, I now pronounce you husband and… husband.  You can kiss the… husband.  Wow, wedding ceremonies are heteronormative.”

Victor and Yuuri elected to ignore Phichit and finally kissed.  It was a soft, but sure kiss.  Nothing that asked for more, but far from chaste.  To Yuuri, it was perfect.  When they broke apart, Yuuri kept his arms wrapped around Victor’s neck and pressed their foreheads together, letting out a slight laugh. 

“Think we can do that again tomorrow?” Victor asked.

“With you by my side? I think I can do anything.” Yuuri answered, before kissing him again. 

Victor broke away from the kiss, “Hey, Yuuri, do you know what two weddings means?”

“Don’t you dare–”

“Two anniversaries!”

\---------------------

Their second wedding went almost as well as their first.  Yuuri thought Victor looked amazing in his suit, but his mind kept thinking back to how he looked in a rumpled OPP sweatshirt in the candlelight, and honestly, Yuuri wasn’t sure which one he preferred more.  Phichit had done better in his role as Yuuri’s best man, than as an officiant, but Yuuri wouldn’t hold that against him. 

So far, the reception was going great.  Their first dance had been slow, and close, and Yuuri only felt slightly embarrassed when they broke apart and saw that nearly everyone in the room was crying.  Now Yuuri and Victor sat so close at the reception table, Yuuri might as well have given up and sat on Victor’s lap.  Phichit had talked Yuuri into letting him MC, something that Yuuri was quickly regretting.

“I just want to thank everyone for coming tonight,” Phichit said, “I’d say that Victor and Yuuri thank you, but let’s be real, they’re so wrapped up in each other I doubt they even noticed that a wedding happened.”

“Phichit.”

“Okay, okay, anyways, let me introduce the other best man, an attractive Swiss with an ass that won’t qui–” 

“Phichit!”

“Okay, here’s Chris.”

Chris took that as his cue to saunter up to the microphone. “Hello everyone! For those that don’t know me, I’m Victor’s best friend, and it’s a wonder that I haven't been referenced until now.  Anyways,” He continued, “Do you know how I knew that Victor and Yuuri were going to get married?  Because the day after Victor met him, he called me and said ‘Chris, I’m going to marry this man.’  I’m not surprised he was so infatuated. I mean, when Victor got arrested it wasn’t the first time he was in handcuffs.  And it certainly wasn’t the last either, right Yuuri?” Chris winked at Yuuri who was turning a very violent shade of red, “Oh speaking of, don’t even get me started on the call that I got from Victor after the first time they finally fucked–” 

Yuuri jumped up out of his seat and grabbed the mic from Chris, “Thanks, Chris, wonderful speech, but I think you’re done now.”  Yuuri actively avoided looking at his parents while Chris blew a kiss to the guests and walked back to his seat to sit down, high-fiving Victor as he went. “Phichit, who’s next?” Yuuri asked.

“Grumpy old Russian,” Phichit answered.

“Yakov!” Yuuri said cheerfully, “Come on up!” 

Yakov took the microphone from Yuuri without saying a word and looked directly at Victor as he spoke, “I never trusted Canadians.  I still don’t.  But maybe Victor got a good one.  Not good enough to leave Russia for, but a good one nonetheless.”

Victor stood up, obviously fighting back tears and hugged Yakov, “Thank you.  That… that really means a lot to me dad.” 

Yakov pushed Victor back, “Dad? Do you see me as a father figure, Victor?”

“No. If anything I see you a bother figure. Because you’re always bothering me!  Ha! Okay, maybe a little... Yes.” Victor confessed.  Yakov nodded once, and then pulled Victor into another bone crushing hug, before returning to his seat.  Yuuri watched this interaction, completely amused and fully intended to make fun of Victor for it later.

The rest of the speeches were relatively unremarkable as far as speeches go.  Mari gave a mortifying speech detailing all of Yuuri’s embarrassing childhood stories, which delighted Victor to no end.  

“I’m starting to think this whole reception thing was a bad idea,” Yuuri whispered to Victor.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Victor replied, “I love it.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, “That’s because you’re an attention whore, Victor.”

“Ah, true, but now I’m _your_ attention whore.” Victor said cheerfully, before kissing Yuuri on his cheek.  Yuuri scrunched up his face and laughed.  He wasn’t really sure how he’d gotten to this point.  From arresting a drunk Russian to marrying one, but he wasn’t going to complain.  Victor pressed his face into the side of Yuuri’s neck, “Once they start dancing, we can slip away for some quiet time, okay?  If the open bar is working the way we planned, they’ll be too drunk to notice we’re gone.”

Yuuri nodded, “Okay.”

“Hey, guys we all get that you’re in love and stuff, but can you pay attention to me again?” Phichit said with a pointed look at Yuuri, Victor shrugged his shoulders and kissed Yuuri’s cheek one more time before pulling back.

“Chris and I, as the best men, have a gift for Yuuri and Victor,” Phichit declared as Chris reached under the table and pulled out a large wrapped square that was obviously something in a frame.  It took nearly all of Chris’s arm span to hold it up, and Yuuri was definitely dreading whatever the image was. 

Victor shared a look of “oh dear fucking god” with Yuuri before mumbling, “I’m sorry,” and standing up to rip the wrapping paper off the front of the gift.  Nothing could have prepared Yuuri to see an enlarged and enhanced image of himself arresting a half-dressed Victor and he felt himself turn beet red.  Victor stared at the picture open-mouthed, while their entire wedding party was laughing so hard Yuuri was sure they were going to fall out of their seats.

“It’s for your bedroom!” Chris told them cheerfully as Yuuri put his face in his hands.  In the bigger picture you could clearly see just how wasted Victor had been, next to a tight-lipped Yuuri.

“Thanks Chris,” Victor said, “But that thing will not be coming within 50 feet of my home.”

“Ungrateful,” Chris said teasingly.

“Can you literally put that anywhere other than here?” Yuuri asked, barely removing his head from his hands, “I really can’t look at that right now.”

“Why? Does it turn you–”

“Christophe!”

“Fine.” Chris placed the picture on the ground behind Yuuri and Victor’s places at the head table, “It's just there when you need it.”

“I have one last gift for Yuuri,” Phichit added as Chris took his seat.

“Oh god,” Yuuri said.

Phichit gestured to the door of the banquet hall, “It’s just being rolled in right now!”

Yuuri turned and paled when he saw what Yurio was rolling into the room and to the centre of the dance floor. “Phichit, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.  A keg?”

“Of course,” Phichit said, “What party would be complete without a keg stand?”

Victor burst out laughing beside him, “Holy shit,” he gasped, “This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!” Yuuri complained, whacking Victor on the arm, “I’m not doing a keg stand at my wedding.”

“I thought I raised you not to be a punk-ass bitch,” Hiroko said from her seat near the front of the room, “Do the keg stand.”

“Mother!” Yuuri exclaimed.

“Alright,” Phichit yelled from where he’d moved beside the keg, “Who’s got Yuuri’s other leg?”

“I do!” Victor volunteered.

Yuuri stood up and took off his suit jacket, “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Victor, if you drop me I’m filing for divorce.”

“I won’t drop you, lyubov moya.” Victor replied, “That's what marriage is about.  I’ll never drop you.” 

“Leave it to Victor Nikiforov to make even keg stands romantic.” Phichit said rolling his eyes.

“Hey,” Victor said, reaching for Yuuri’s leg, “That’s Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov.”

\---------------------

Yuuri might have been hiding out in the bathroom of the banquet hall, if he was being honest.  That was why he was sitting in a stall, just taking a moment to collect himself.  The noise levels were getting to be just a little bit too much, and although he loved all of his and Victor’s friends dearly, he just needed a break for a second. 

“Hey pig,” Yurio said banging on the stall door, “I want to talk to you.”

Yuuri sighed, and opened the door, “What Yurio?”

Yuri thrust a badly wrapped gift into Yuuri’s hands and promptly walked out the door of the bathroom.

“Good talk,” Yuuri called after him.  He glanced down at the package in his hands, wondering if he should wait for Victor to open it, but his curiosity got the better of him and he carefully tore back the wrapping paper.  When he saw what Yurio had framed for him Yuuri almost dropped the picture. 

It was of Victor and him with their foreheads pressed together; dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirts, their faces softly lit up by candlelight.  Yuuri was laughing, his eyes closed in a moment of pure happiness while Victor was looking at him with a gentle expression of awe on his face.  They looked so ridiculously in love that it almost hurt Yuuri’s chest to look at.  He wasn’t sure how Yuri got a picture of their first wedding.  Their private vows that Yuuri would always hold more dearly to his heart than anything else.  They were words that Yuuri had meant, and fully intended to stand by.  Because Victor really was it for him.  And it was obvious from this picture, that Yuuri was it for him too.

Yuuri gently flipped the frame over, and saw messy handwriting on the back in sharpie.

_If a blessing is what you want to call it, you’ve still got it. I might only be 17, but because of you two I know what real love it.  So thanks.  I hope you two have a long and happy marriage as long as I don’t have to be subjected to any part of it.  Congrats. – Yurio_

He smiled and held the picture to his chest.  He was trying not cry, but the tears were still slipping out. 

“Hey, lyubov moya,” Victor said as he pushed open the door to the bathroom, “I don’t know how, when or where from, but somehow Chris has put up a stripper pole on the dance floor, and your mother is eyeing it up, and your father just did a very impressive keg stand.  So I’m thinking that now might be a good time for us to make our graceful exit.” 

Yuuri chuckled softly, “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Are you hungry?” Victor asked reaching out to cup Yuuri’s cheek in his hand.

“Starving,” Yuuri answered.

Victor leaned forwards and pecked him on the lips, “How does fast food, Netflix, and cuddling in our bed sound?  We don’t have to be at the airport until late tomorrow.”

Yuuri smiled brightly, “It sounds absolutely perfect.” 

Victor kissed him again briefly, “Let’s go get our coats.  Hey,” he said, gesturing to the picture, “What’s that?”

“Just something Yurio gave us,” Yuuri told him. 

Victor laughed, “Oh dear, I hope it’s not too awful.” 

Yuuri kissed him on the cheek, “It’s not, I promise.”

“I’ll look at it later.  Shall we head out, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov?” Victor asked. 

“Yes, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov, I think we shall.” Yuuri responded, linking his arm through Victor’s and leading him towards the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes chris call me out i deserve it
> 
> okay uhm im a piece of garbage and that's why this chapter is a week late actually it's because this is my second last week of my first year of uni and im just busy and stressed with exams and papers
> 
> also i went home last weekend for the first time in like a month and a half and i spent the whole thing playing with my horse instead of writing but honestly #NoRagrets
> 
> i promise the last update will be this weekend! so it's going to end on schedule! i just got super busy and didn't have time to write this chapter
> 
> as usual i love all of you, thank you so much for making it to this point in the fic honestly it's amazing you're all still here <3
> 
> anyways yell at me in the comments or on tumblr because i love attention more than Victor Nikiforov


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations at the end! 
> 
> Wow this is it guys! This last chapter is just a series of timestamps so it's got a lot of time jumps and no real consistent POV, but I hope you guys like it!

“We should have a baby,” Victor said casually.

Yuuri paused and looked down at Victor from his position straddling him, “And you thought now was a good time to bring that up?”

Victor glanced, down and then back up at Yuuri, “Uhm yeah, it seemed appropriate considering.” 

“You’ve taken a biology class right?” Yuuri asked, “You know that this isn’t how babies are made?”

“Well obviously not,” Victor replied, “We’re using a–”

“Jesus Christ, Victor.” 

“Did I kill the mood?” Victor asked.

Yuuri ran a hand down his face and looked at Victor.  He paused for a second, considering, before shrugging, “Nah.  I can finish.”

\-----------------------

“Oh my god, you were serious?” Yuuri asks the next morning when Victor brings up the baby thing again. 

“We talked about adoption before we got married.” Victor said, calmly pouring himself a cup of coffee, “We both want kids, so why not?”

Yuuri shook his head, “I know we talked about it, but it’s not the right time.” 

“We’ve been married for a year, the rink is bringing in money, the mortgages on both the house and the rink are paid, and Yurio just moved out into his apartment,” Victor said, “It’s the perfect time.”

“I don't know,” Yuuri fiddled with his spoon before setting next to his bowl of cereal when Victor eyed it harshly. 

“It’s not about timing.  What are you really worried about?” Victor asked him, sitting down next to him at the table. 

Yuuri ran a hand down his face, and rested his chin in hand, “What if I’m not a good father?” 

Victor reached out and pried Yuuri’s hand away from his face, clasping it tightly between them, “How can you say that?  Every single kid in this town play with you for timbits and they all love you.  You also made it through Yurio’s teenage angst bullshit.  I don’t know how you could possibly think you’ll be anything less than amazing.”

Yuuri considered Victor’s words, and thought about the reality of them having a baby.  Of a sleep deprived Victor cuddling with a small bundle.  He thought of an aging Makkachin, being angelically patient with a toddler constantly playing with her fur.  And he also thought of the first time their kid would skate, whether it be in hockey skates, or not.  And he wanted it.  He wanted it so badly it almost ached in his chest. 

“Okay.” Yuuri said finally.

Victor’s face broke out in a huge grin, “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.  Let’s do it.” Yuuri said, his own smile growing.  Victor laughed softly, almost like a sound of disbelief before grabbing Yuuri’s face and kissing him vehemently. 

He broke away quickly, “Yuuri, we’re going to be parents,” he said before kissing him again, and again.

“Victor,” Yuuri managed, between kisses, “As much as I love you, and this, I’m going to be late for work.”

“Don’t go in then,” Victor said against Yuuri’s lips.

“And what would Yurio say if you missed his training?” Yuuri laughed, “He wants another Grand Prix Final win.” 

Victor groaned and pulled away, “Fine.  But if your not-son does anything dumb today I’m coming to the station to bother you.”

“He’s your not-son too,” Yuuri reminded him.

“Not when he’s annoying,” Victor said, “Then he’s all yours.”

\------------------------

“Wow, you look awful,” Phichit mentioned as Yuuri sat down at his desk.

“Thanks, I can always count on you to make me feel good about myself in the morning,” Yuuri said sliding a mug of coffee onto Phichit’s desk.

“I meant you look tired,” he said carefully, “Did your idiot husband do something again?”

Yuuri considered this for a moment, “I mean probably, but not that I can think of right now.”

Phichit nodded solemnly, “So what is it then?”

“The whole adoption process is exhausting.” Yuuri sighed, “I don’t regret starting it, but it’s been four months since we started our application and I had to spend all of yesterday disinfecting the house because they decided to do another house visit.  Another one! That brings the total up to six in two months.  That’s six more times than I normally clean my house in a year.”

“You should get approved soon,” Phichit said, leaning back in his chair. “You’re already approved to foster, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, we technically took Yurio in as a foster child so we had to be.” Yuuri answered, “We put our names are back in to be foster parents, but they haven’t matched us with any kids.” 

Phichit’s response was cut off by the sound of the dispatch phone ringing.  Yuuri and Phichit stared at each other blankly for a few rings before Phichit spoke. 

“You know, one of us should probably answer that,” he said.

Yuuri jumped up and took the phone, “Officer Katsuki-Nikiforov.”

“There’s been a complaint of screams from a house on Bay Street by a passerby.  They’re waiting on scene.” The dispatcher spoke quickly.  Yuuri thanked and grabbed the keys for the cruiser off his desk.

Yuuri gave a pointed look to Phichit before gesturing towards the door, “Grab your coat, let’s go, I’ll fill you in in the car.”

They arrived at the scene in eight minutes after Yuuri took advantage of one of the few times he can lawfully use the sirens on the cruiser.  He jumped out of the car, cringing at the cold November air before approaching the person who’d called 911. 

“Good morning, ma’am,” Yuuri said to the elderly woman standing in the cold with her small lapdog, “Did you make the call?”

“Yes officer, I–” She began before being cut off by a loud scream coming from inside the tiny house.  Yuuri’s eyes widened, the scream was far from quiet, but at the same time it was so small and fragile.

“That’s a child,” Phichit said taking his place beside Yuuri, “Ma’am you knocked on the door any everything right?”

“No response,” she answered. 

“What are you thinking? Suspected child abuse?” Phichit asked pulling Yuuri’s gaze away from the house. 

“I’d say so,” Yuuri responded.  “All I can tell you is that if nobody answers the door I’m going to kick it in, consequences or not.”

Phichit nodded and followed Yuuri’s lead to the front door. “Guns?” He asked quietly.

“Not yet,” Yuuri answered, shifting uncomfortably when another scream emitted from the house, “I want to avoid the paperwork if we can.”  He reached up and knocked soundly on the door mustering up the most authoritative voice he could, “This is the police, answer your door.”

The door remained unopened, without so much of a stirring of movement from inside.  Yuuri knocked twice more before turning to look at Phichit.

“Do you think we have reasonable and probable cause?” Phichit asked.  Yuuri stared hard at the door, a tense set in his shoulders that only got tenser with every scream.

“I don't give a fuck,” he said, “It’s a kid.”

Phichit nodded and took a step back, pulling out his pistol, while Yuuri did the same and positioned himself to kick the door in.  He positioned his foot beside the door handle before pulling his leg back and driving his heel forward with as much force as possible.  The door frame cracked on the first kick, but it took one more to swing the door open on its hinges. The first thing that hit Yuuri as his eyes adjusted to the dim living room was the smell of death.  It hung thickly in the air mixed with the scent of dried blood and stale cigarettes. Inside was as dark as night, but unlike the vast open sky, the room pressed down on him, compressing his lungs until Yuuri felt like he couldn’t breathe.

It didn’t take long to spot her, sitting upright on the dirty couch with a needle still in her arm.  Phichit pushed past Yuuri, who felt stuck in place looking over the crumbling walls.

“Yuuri,” Phichit said drawing his attention from the cracked ceiling back to the scene in front of him, “Find the kid.  I’ll stay with her.”

“Is there any chance–” Yuuri started.

Phichit cut him off, “No.  She’s dead.  Probably has been for a while.  Find the kid.”

Yuuri put his gun back in his holster and warily stepped forward.  The screaming had stopped, making Yuuri’s heart beat erratically.  What if he hadn’t been fast enough? What if–

Yuuri opened the first door he saw and found a bedroom with a bare mattress, but no child.  The second door was a bathroom, but the third opened into a nursery.  The contrast of this room to the rest of the house was startling.  The walls were a soft blue, and clean, unlike the rest of the house.  He didn’t dwell on the room.  Yuuri’s attention zeroed in on the small boy, standing in his crib holding onto the railing for dear life.  He couldn’t have been more than a year old.

“Hi,” Yuuri said softly trying not to scare him.  The boy shrunk back from his voice, and fear welled up in his dark eyes, but he didn't cry out and Yuuri wasn’t sure which one broke his heart more.  He glanced around quickly before his eyes landed on letters attached to the wall.

“Alex?  Is that your name?” He kept his voice low and even as he stepped towards the baby. “I’m not going to hurt you.  It’s okay,” He whispered, “It’s going to be okay.  I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

Phichit came to the door of the room just as Yuuri pulled the boy into his arms. 

“Oh my god, he’s so small.” Phichit said quietly.

Yuuri kept a hand on the back of the boy’s head, holding him securely to his chest, “I want him to get checked at the hospital.  Do we know who the mother is yet?” he asked.

“No.” Phichit answer, “The poor kid.  Do you think he’s got a father?” 

Yuuri raised his eyebrows at Phichit, “Obviously he has a father.”

Phichit sighed, “You know what I meant.”

Yuuri was rocking back and forth slowly, trying to soothe Alex, “Even if he has one, I doubt CPS will release him into their custody.”

“So he’s going to be a foster child.” Phichit said, his voice void of any emotion.  Watching kids go through the system came with the job, but that never made it easy.

“Yeah,” Yuuri said, “probably.” He looked down at the small child clinging tightly to his uniform and realized quite suddenly that he had no intention handing him over to anybody else. 

Phichit gave Yuuri a meaningful one over before stepping back out into the hallway.  “I’m going to call the coroner.  Take him to a doctor.  And call Victor.”

\-----------------------

Yuuri sat in the hospital room on a chair beside the empty bed waiting for Alex to return from his tests.

He had called Victor earlier and had essentially gotten out, “Vitya, there’s this boy–” before his husband, that knew him far too well, said “Yes.  Whatever you need to do, Yuuri, do it.”

Yuuri knew that he had a small in with CPS from his position in the station, but the possibility of Victor and himself fostering Alex was just that, a possibility and not a certainty.  He’d found Alex’s hospital records through some basic police work and now knew that he was only ten months old.  Ten months old and already an orphan. 

“Yuuri?” Victor’s voice came softly from the door.

Yuuri felt like he took his first proper breath since entering that house, “I’m scared, Victor.”

Victor stepped into the room and crouched in front of Yuuri, putting them nearly eye level, “The baby’s okay, isn’t he?”

“He should be fine,” Yuuri answered, “But I’m scared that he’s going to end up in the system.  I can’t let that happen to him.  You haven’t… You haven’t seen him yet, Victor.  He’s afraid to cry.  He looked so scared when I came into his room, but he wouldn’t make a sound.”

Victor didn’t say anything.  What could he?  Instead he just held Yuuri’s hands, grounding him to the present moment.

“Officer Katsuki?”  Yuuri glanced up noticing the familiar CPS worker accompanied by a nurse holding a sleeping Alex.

“Is he okay?” Victor asked, ignoring the CPS worker altogether. 

“He’s fine,” The nurse said placing the sleeping baby in Victor’s arms, obviously assuming Victor was the child’s father, “All of his tests came back clear so he should be good to go home in the next hour or so.” 

Victor looked slightly startled at the baby he was suddenly holding, but he kept his cool and started gently bouncing up and down to avoid waking him.  Yuuri looked on with an increasing fondness in his chest.  He’d pictured Victor many times over the past few months holding a baby, but never one with any defined features.  And now that he’d seen Alex in Victor’s arms he couldn’t picture any other. 

“Officer Katsuki,” the CPS worker said again to catch Yuuri’s attention. 

Yuuri turned to her, “Hi Linda, it’s Katsuki-Nikiforov.  You know that.”

“Which is a ridiculously long name to say.” She said.

Yuuri blinked, “Your last name is Arcidiacono.”

“Touché,” She said warmly, “So your friend Officer Chulanont made a couple calls for you and you officially have a judge on your case.”

“What case?” Victor asked, stepping in place beside Yuuri.

“Your adoption case.” She said simply.

Victor and Yuuri stared at her blankly, “Adoption case?”

Linda smiled brightly, “I pulled a couple of strings.  Alexander is now your foster son.  And when the case goes through, and it will, he’ll be your son.”

“Our son.” Yuuri said, astounded, a smile growing on his face, “Victor, our son.”

\------------------

It turned out that Alexander got over his fear of crying pretty quickly and became a demon baby.  And toddler.  And child.  He never walked anywhere, always ran, and forced Victor and Yuuri be constantly vigilant.  It’s not that he was a bad kid.  Not even close.  Alex was kind, and soft-hearted with endless curiosity.  The problem was that his energy matched his inquisitiveness and got him more scrapped knees and muddy clothes than they could handle.  But all the same, everybody who ever met Alexander Katsuki-Nikiforov loved him, including Victor and Yuuri who loved him more than life itself. 

“Easy there, Медвежонок,” Victor called as a six-year-old Alex sped across the ice, “You know, Yuuri, he’s almost as fast as you.”

“But put him in some figure skates and he’s almost as good as you were,” Yuuri said, leaning over the boards to watch his son.

“Were?” Victor asked.

“We get it, okay, the spawn has both of your loves for the ice.  Can you two shut up now?” Yurio said sliding to a stop in front of them.

“Twenty bucks says he picks hockey,” Yuuri said casually. 

Victor’s eyes challenged Yuuri, “Twenty bucks says he breaks all my skating records.”

“Twenty bucks says he quits skating,” Yurio said leaning back against the boards.  Victor and Yuuri glared slightly Yurio while Alex kept skating gleefully across the ice.  “Actually, I already lost that bet.  Look at the kid, he’s not going to stop skating.  I’ll side with Yuuri because he’s not you Victor.  The spawn’ll play hockey.”

Victor sighed, “I appreciate the sentiment, but do you have to refer to our son as ‘spawn’?” 

Yurio shrugged, “Yes.  Yes, I do.”

\-------------------

Yuuri ended up winning the bet when Alex was nine years old and asked Victor if he could focus on hockey.

“I’m sorry Papa,” he said quietly, tears in his eyes, “I know how much you love figure skating, but I love hockey.  I love being on a team, so I think I want to stick with that.  I’m sorry.”

“Oh Медвежонок, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Victor told him, “if hockey is what you want to do then hockey is what you’ll do.  I’ll just keep harassing Yurio until he retires, okay?  You’re more important to me than skating will ever be.”

Victor hugs him while he cries and then tells him to go bother Makkachin for a while so that he can talk to Yuuri.  When he hands his husband a twenty-dollar bill, Yuuri looks confused for a solid three minutes before it clicks and he forces Victor to tell him exactly what Alex said.

“He could go pro,” Yuuri says softly, “He’s talented enough and he’s a hard worker.”

“We can’t force him to do anything.” Victor said, resting his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Obviously not.  He has to choose if that’s what he wants.  We’re going to support him no matter what he does.” Yuuri responds.

“Of course,” Victor smiles, “That’s what parenting is.”

\---------------------

When Alex gets drafted to the OHL at sixteen nobody is surprised.  Yuuri and Victor are thrilled for him, but they feel his absence like a thorn in their sides. 

“We’re empty-nesters,” Yuuri jokes one day, but Victor’s face looks so absolutely heartbroken that Yuuri doesn’t bring it up again.

That’s probably why he shouldn’t have been surprised when he came home one day to find a young girl sitting on the couch in their living room. 

“Hello,” Victor said tentatively, “Where’s Yuuri?”

The girl didn’t say anything, but just stared at Victor with wide frightened eyes.  Victor crouched down to be eye level with her, but didn’t step any closer.

“Does Yuuri know you’re here?” He asked.  She nodded.

“Do you know who I am?” She shook her head. 

“I’m Victor, Yuuri’s husband.  You know we’re not going to hurt you right?” She blinked at him before slowly shaking her head.

Victor looked up at the ceiling for a brief second, gather the strength to push on, “I promise, I will not touch you unless you want me to, okay?” The girl nodded, but didn’t move her eyes off Victor.

“Are you hungry?” She nodded.

“Will grilled cheese, work? It’s the only thing I can cook.”  She nodded again.  

“Okay,” Victor said, “I’m going to the kitchen, you can follow me if you want, or you can stay right here and I’ll bring the food back to you.  Your choice.”  He walked to the kitchen and paused before taking out a frying pan to listen for the sound of footsteps. When she came into the room, he tried to not react beyond turning slowly to acknowledge her.  The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her off.

So Victor just started talking, like he’d done when Alex was tiny and frightened.  He told her about the rink, and Alex, and Yuuri, and funny stories about their late dog, Makkachin.  He could have sworn he heard her giggle when he burnt the grilled cheese and had to start her a new one.  He’d just placed a plate down in front of the girl when Yuuri walked through the door.

“Oh, Mae, I see you’ve met Victor.” Yuuri said, coming into the kitchen to kiss Victor on the cheek, “If Victor cooked that you might not want to eat it.”

“Please, Yuuri, Alex lived on grilled cheese, it’s the only thing I can cook.” he held a finger to his lips at Mae, begging her not to tell Yuuri about the burnt sandwich, “Where were you?” he finally asked.

“CPS,” Yuuri answered.

“CPS?”

“She can’t go back to where she was,” he whispered in Victor’s ear, “I couldn’t live with myself if I sent her back.”

Victor closed his eyes tightly, “Does Alex know?”

Yuuri sighed, “Yes, I called him earlier.  I wanted to talk to you in person about it.”

“Okay... did we get approved?” Victor asked quietly.

“Yes.” Yuuri said, taking a dish from Victor’s hands to dry.

“Am I staying here?” Mae asked.  Yuuri and Victor turned to face her. 

“If that’s okay with you,” Victor said, “You can stay here as long as you need to.”

“Okay,” she said, “I can sleep on the couch.” 

“No,” Yuuri said, “You can pick a bedroom, we’ve got two extra ones.”

When Alex was still a toddler, Victor and Yuuri had spent the summer adding an additional two bedrooms to their house after turning the old guest room into a nursery.  It made sense since Phichit and Yurio often stayed overnight at their house, and they frequently hosted foreign visitors as well.  Even if it had seemed like more trouble than it was worth at the time, the extra bedrooms did come in handy, especially now.

“I get a room?” She said, wide-eyed. 

“Yeah,” Victor said, “Come on, let’s go pick one.”

\-----------------------

Victor put the car in park in front of Mae’s school and drummed his fingers against the steering wheeling, waiting for her to get out. 

“Is something wrong,” he asked finally, turning to look at her.  She kept her eyes on the window and held onto her backpack with a death grip.  “Mae,” Victor said softly, “What is it?”

“They don’t like me.” She said simply. 

“The other kids?” Victor asked.  She nodded slowly.

 Victor inhaled deeply, “Well,” he said, “You know, you do look rather pale.  How about I call in sick for you and you spend the day at the rink with me instead?” 

“I guess that would be okay,” She said. Victor shrugged and shifted the car back into drive. 

“Wait,” he said, “If Yuuri asks you had a migraine or something okay?”

Mae smirked, “Do twelve year-olds even get migraines?”

Victor chuckled, “No, but the Russians they mercilessly tease do.  Let’s go.”

They reached the rink in minutes with Victor driving as he learned to in Russia.  Which essentially means that road signs were a suggestion, and not a rule to follow. 

“I’m assuming your driving is also something I shouldn’t tell Yuuri about,” Mae commented as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Good,” Victor responded, “You’re learning.” 

“It’s about time you got here, old man,” Yurio said not taking his eyes off his phone or his leg out of the air. “Oh, hi Mae, shouldn’t you be in school?” he asked. 

“I’m not feeling well,” Mae answered, “Victor gave me a migraine.”

“You’re not the only one.” Yurio said without any malice.  The last sixteen years had done wonders with his attitude.

“If you keep sassing me I’m not choreographing your program,” Victor said gently pushing on Yuri’s extended leg, “Losing a bit of flexibility there aren’t you? Must be getting old.”

“Well I haven’t heard my boyfriend complaining about my lack of flexibility.  Quite the opposite lately–”

Victor slapped his hand over Yurio’s mouth, “Yura, there is a child present.” 

“Oh motherfucking shit.  Sorry Mae” Yurio said while Victor threw his hands up. 

“Why do I even try?” Victor asked the ceiling.  Or God.  Whichever one was listening.  He turned back to look at Mae.  “Do you want to skate?  I’m sure there’s some rentals here that would fit you.”

“I’ve never skated before,” she said hesitantly.

“That’s okay,” Victor responded brightly, “Everyone has to start somewhere!” 

“And if this idiot can win six consecutive Grand Prix Final gold medals, then you’ll be fine,” Yurio added on Victor’s other side. 

“Do you think I could do that? Someday?” Mae asked quietly.

“You can do anything you set your mind to, Mae.” Victor said, “Do you want to figure skate?”

She nodded, “I used to sneak into my friend’s ballet lessons and I loved it, but figure skating always looked interesting I just never had enough money to buy skates.” 

Victor smiled and wrapped an arm gently around her shoulders, “Then we’ll buy you your own pair of skates tonight, dа?”

\------------------------

“Victor?” Mae said as she rounded the corner into the kitchen.  Victor was standing by the counter reading a newspaper so that he could understand whatever political discussion Yuuri and Alex would be having at dinner that night.  His reading glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, forcing him to look up and over them at Mae.

“Oh hey, маленькая утка, what is up?” Victor asked.

Mae rolled her eyes, “It’s what’s.”

“What?” 

“Never mind.” She said, “I wanted to ask you something, you don’t have to say yes, but since Alex has been home for the off season I just… It’s just he calls you papa.”

Victor felt more confused than he’d ever been, “Yes, he does.”

“Well…” Mae’s eyes skirted around the room as she fidgeted with her hands, “I was thinking maybe I could call you that too?”

“Oh,” Victor breathed.

Mae put her hands up in front of her, “I mean, if you’re not okay with it then–” 

“No, Mae,” Victor stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug, which she tightly returned, “I’d be honoured if you called me papa.”

“Do you think Yuuri would be okay with it if I called him dad? That’s what Alex calls him.” Mae murmured into Victor’s chest. 

“He’d definitely be okay with it,” Yuuri answered, closing the back door behind him, “If you’re comfortable with it Mae, then so am I.”

Mae pulled away from Victor to gape at Yuuri who smiled warmly at her, “Mae, we were going to wait to ask you this but I feel like now’s a good time.”

Victor turned to look at his husband questioningly and Yuuri raised his eyebrows in a look that said, _you know what I’m talking about, idiot_.

“We’d like to adopt you,” Victor said, cluing into what Yuuri was hinting at, “Is that something you’d want?”

Mae’s eyes darted between the two of them, welling up with tears, “You’re serious?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said.  Mae didn’t say anything, but she didn’t really need to.  Victor and Yuuri were able to work out her answer just fine when she pulled both of them into a tight group hug and silently cried into their shirts.  And just like the first time Yuuri and Victor held Alex they both realized just how badly they never wanted to let her go.

\--------------------------

The first official Katsuki-Nikiforov photo was by all standards kind of ugly.  Alex was about to sneeze, Victor’s eyes were closed and Yuuri wasn’t even looking at the camera.  But in the middle of the frame, Mae Bridget Katsuki-Nikiforov held her adoption papers in her hands with the largest and most endearing smile on her face.  Which is why Victor would never regret posting that picture everywhere on his social media.  Sure their family looked barely functional in it, but the pure happiness that radiated off that picture made up for the lack of good lighting.  Even perpetually camera-ready Phichit was caught off guard in the background of the of the photo, which delighted Yuuri to no end. 

What made Victor love this photo more than any other photo ever taken of him was that in it he was just a person.  He was just a husband and just a father.  It was so distant from the fabricated personality that had existed for media until that one day he posted a fateful picture on a VIA Rail train. 

Victor’s life had changed so drastically since he’d meet Yuuri.  His medals, that had always been so proudly on display, were now pushed behind pictures of Alex and Mae as they grew up and grew in their own accomplishments.  The first time Mae won a medal at a figure skating competition, Victor placed it directly beside his Olympic medals, having never felt prouder than in that moment.  However, over the years he had so many of his children’s accomplishments to be proud of that his entire personality just became pride. Alex’s first goal on his NHL team was tied with the first time Mae qualified for the Grand Prix Final, even if she placed last.  The following year she came back stronger than ever and took home silver, while Alex’s team made it to the Stanley Cup play offs.

The media liked to run stories about the living Ice legend producing children that dominated both major ice sports which prompted Yuuri to ask him if they should adopt a third child to be a curler.  To which Victor replied “I love you, and I get that I live in Canada now, but if you ever bring up curling to me again, I will divorce you.”

\------------------------

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mae said, leaning back against Alex's shoulder.

“I had to wait twenty-four years to hear this story,” Alex said mournfully, “Twenty-four years.”

“So basically, you got wasted off your ass, ended up in buttfuck nowhere Canada and married the first person you saw?” Mae asked Victor. 

Victor rubbed the back of his neck, “I mean, yeah, that’s basically what happened.” 

“That’s absolutely amazing.  I have so much more respect for you,” Mae told him before finishing her glass of wine. 

Alex turned to stare at Yuuri, “All of the kids in school told me you did keg stands.  All of them, but I didn’t believe it." 

“Well, I never exactly planned to do them,” Yuuri confessed, “They just kind of happened.”

“With photographic evidence!” Victor reminded his husband.

“You two are ridiculous.  This family is ridiculous.” Alex said, “I need more beer.”

“Should I get you a keg so you can follow in dad’s footsteps?” Mae asked.

“I’ll still fight you.” Alex said.

Mae laughed, “Meet me on the pond in ten minutes, we’ll scrap.” 

“We had sex in the pond once, didn’t we?” Victor asked Yuuri.

“More than once, honey,” Yuuri said calmly.

Mae and Alex turned to stare at them, slack-jawed.  “You… you let us swim in there as children.”

“Hey,” Victor said, “You wanted to know the story of how we got together.”

“Our parents are crazy,” Alex said.

“I understand why they made us wait until we were adults now.” Mae commented.

“Well most ‘how I met your father’ stories don’t involve drunk, nude, Russians.” Yuuri said affectionately.

“The good ones do,” Victor said.

“Gross.”

“High-five to matchmaker of the motherfucking year,” Phichit said, waking up from where he dozing off in an arm chair and sleepily high-fiving himself over his head.

“Why did you invite him?” Mae asked, clearly amused by his ability to wake up at the perfect time.

“I didn’t,” Yuuri said, “He’s family, he just kind of comes.”

“So wait,” Alex said, “You’ve explained pretty much everything, but I still have one question.”

Yuuri smiled at his son, “Hit me with it.” 

“How the fuck did you befriend a bear?”

\-------------------------

“So that went relatively well,” Victor said as he crawled into his side of the bed.

Yuuri chuckled, “Did you expect it to go badly?”

“No.” Victor paused, “But who knows with those two.  Alex is far too much like you.”

“And Mae is far too much like you.” Yuuri shot back.

“Fair enough,” Victor said as he curled down into Yuuri’s side, “It’s hard to believe we’ve been married for twenty-five years.”

“A good twenty-five years,” Yuuri said quietly.

“Yeah, they were aight,” Victor said, grinning up at Yuuri. 

Yuuri chuckled, “Don’t think I won’t divorce you.” 

“You won’t.” Victor said, “You’ve been stuck with me since you arrested me.”

“What a mistake that was,” Yuuri joked. 

Victor smacked his arm, “You know for a retired cop, you’ve broken the law pretty badly.”

“And what did I do?” Yuuri asked.

Victor fought back a shit-eating grin, “You stole my heart.” 

Yuuri laughed, “You have made that joke every day for more than twenty years, are you done yet?”

“Never.” Victor responded, “Hey you chose to arrest me.”

“I wasn’t going to let you freeze to death.” Yuuri said, pushing his shoulder good-naturedly.

“Come on that’s not the only reason you arrested me,” Victor teased, “Admit it.  It was all because you found me irresistibly handsome.”

“Maybe,” Yuuri said softly, “Or maybe I just wanted to get to know you better.”

“You did?” Victor asked.

“Yeah.  You made me laugh,” Yuuri confessed, “And I hadn’t laughed like that for a really long time.  And that’s why I might have arrested you.  So I could meet you sober.”

Victor laughed so hard he was nearly crying, “How to get a man by Yuuri Katsuki: arrest them so they’ll have to talk to you.”

Yuuri dissolved into fits of giggles with his husband, “I mean it worked didn’t it?”

“Yes, lyubov moya, it worked.” Victor said, wiping the tears away from his eyes.

Yuuri bit his bottom lip before continuing, “Plus, on the bright side, you look great in handcuffs.” 

Victor’s eyes widened and he smiled deviously at Yuuri before rolling to straddle his hips, “Kinky,” he said, before he leaned down to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> "Медвежонок" - Little Bear  
> "маленькая утка" - Little Duck  
> "lyubov moya" - My love
> 
> T-tt-ttt-that's all folks!
> 
> Wow! Thank you so much for reading this and sticking with it for so long! I've been writing this fic for literally my entire semester so it's going to be strange to not have to think about 18th Century British Naval laws while also figuring out how to fit in the next keg stand mention. 
> 
> Writing this fic has been an absolute blast and it had been so cool to watch it grow from just an idea I had one night to something that people have actually taken the time to read and comment on and that's just incredible to me. So again thank you, so, so much.
> 
> I will be writing a few one shots set in this au but I dont know when they'll be coming out because I'm coming into exam season and I just got a new job at a museum!!!!
> 
> As usual you can find me on tumblr @impolitecanadian
> 
> I love all you guys and just thank you so much for making this such an enjoyable experience for me. Stay safe and be smart - don't do anything Yuuri or Phichit would do.
> 
> Also; one last thing, for fun fact purposes: the phrase "keg stand" was mentioned a total of 32 times in this fic. Thank you and goodnight.
> 
> EDIT: I've added a "what happens after this" kind of thing on tumblr so check it out if you're curious! http://impolitecanadian.tumblr.com/post/159533177025/okay-so-i-know-itcotn-is-pretty-resolved-and


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